


What Are You Doing New Year's?

by HelenVanPattersonPatton



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 52,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2195811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenVanPattersonPatton/pseuds/HelenVanPattersonPatton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the conversation between Danny and Mindy had ended differently? A canon adjacent AU. Beginning with Josh and Mindy's Christmas Party, and diverging from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Five Year Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rikyl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikyl/gifts).



> This is for rikyl. Because back in May she posted this: http://rikyl.tumblr.com/post/85686257631/top-three-tmp-aus-you-want-to-read-your-last-fun on Tumblr and it sent plot bunnies hopping in my head. (It's not the AU I promised you, dear. But that one will still happen one day. There's no escaping the music of Paul Simon.)

**Friday, December 14th, 2012**  

Though he'd never admit it, Christmastime brings Danny joy in a way little else does anymore. It isn't like it's some magical time that makes the world seem like a better place. Rotten people are still rotten, trains still don't always run on time, and even at Christmas - maybe  _especially_  at Christmas - people still disappoint you.   

Even though these truths are unchanging, it stands that Christmas is clearly the best time of year. There's a quality of excitement in the air that's nearly tangible. It's the only time you can walk into a store and hear Sinatra playing. It's closer to the way life should feel. It's traditional. Even mass is better. 

The only downside is people expect you to attend things and participate. Who needs to go to twelve different holiday parties in a two week span of time? And gifts! He happily buys something for his mother and brother, but past that it all feels like a waste. Secret Santa is stupid, and despite the many times he's been forced to participate, Danny still has no idea how Dirty Santa is supposed to work. Are they supposed to be gag gifts or not? Most of the time he blows off 90% of the parties he's invited to or comes up with a decent excuse. Yet somehow he gets sucked into Mindy's plans like he always does and ends up toting a very large, very lovingly crafted gingerbread house from Tribeca to Greenwich Village on an unseasonably warm December night. 

It's honestly not so bad. For a shining moment he's even glad he came.

Except it can never be as easy as all that, especially when Mindy Lahiri is involved. Josh the skeezy-looking boyfriend turns out, unsurprisingly, to be a cheater. And no matter how much sound advice Danny tries to offer, it doesn't help. It wouldn't be all that big a deal to him, it's just that whenever he looks in her eyes, he sees a heartbreak familiar in a way it makes his stomach clench.

So Danny doesn't leave. Even though he tries. The winter air is cool in his lungs as he stands planted on the sidewalk, watching Mindy run barefooted up the steps of her building. He can't go. Because he knows how she feels, and he can do the one thing no one was there to do for him. He can be there.  

He cancels his date, which will probably be the end of that, and after tonight he may be changing his opinion on Christmastime. He will certainly never attending the office Christmas party again, that's for sure.

* * *

Her cheeks are streaked with tears, mascara smudged, and Mindy's got a wild-eyed look about her that scares him while still being better than unbridled hurt from a few minutes ago.

"Danny, promise me," she clutches the leather sleeve of his jacket. "If we're both still single in five years?" His eyes narrow and there's a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, something that feels like dread and something else. "We'll kill each other?"  
   
He exhales hard, and maybe he does have a rattle when he breaths. "Deal."   
   
Danny shakes her hand and can't help laugh. What a stupid thing to have thought.   
   
"What?" she asks.  
   
"Hmm?"  
   
"You're laughing what's so funny? You don't think I mean it? Because I have access to some pretty high-powered drugs, mister."  
   
"No, it's not that. That's just -- that isn't what I thought you were going to say."   
   
"Oh? What did you think I was going to say?"  
   
"You know..." Mindy shakes her head and looks back at him with those huge, dark eyes. "Come on, I've seen those movies you watch. I thought you were going to say something crazy. Like if in five years we're both still single we get married or something."   
   
She flinches, just the tiniest bit, but Danny notices. "That is a surprisingly mean thing to say, Danny. Even for you."  
   
"What?! Why is that mean?"  
   
"Because you basically just said it is a worse fate to be married to me than a murder/suicide pact!" She tries to sound like she's joking around, but there are tears shining in her eyes again.   
   
Shit. Why does he have to go and stick his foot in his mouth tonight of all nights? What is he going to say? ' _I think it's just as likely for us both to be struck down by lightning and killed right this very instant than it is to picture us married. Sorry again about your boyfriend.'_  
   
"Don't be that way. You know I didn't mean it like that. Didn't I just say a bunch of nice stuff about you?"  
   
"Yeah. Nice, hypothetical stuff. It's fine. You don't have to mean it." This time it's Danny's turn to flinch.   
   
"Hey. Listen." He grabs her fingers and makes her look at him, needing to make her understand more than he can fathom why. "I meant every word. And not just hypothetical or to make you feel better. You're great. Smart, pretty, funny. Any guy would be lucky to have you."  
   
"Yeah?"  
   
"Of course."  
   
"Then why'd you laugh when you thought I was proposing?"  
   
A slightly drunk and very heartbroken Mindy Lahiri proposing marriage to him on her bed. Damn it, he still can't help but smile.   
   
"Okay." She pushes on his thigh with her toes under the blanket. "You're smiling. Just go. Get out of here. Let me wallow in pity alone."  
   
"No. Mindy." He clamps a hand on her wiggling foot through the fabric. "It's just funny to me because I pictured it. For real."   
   
Her lip is starting to quiver and he is doing such a shit job of making this better. Danny thinks about not digging in any deeper and walking away. Instead he blurts, "Think about it."  
   
"It wouldn't be that bad! Sure, we'd have hairy children, but they'd be stupid hot and probably very intelligent." 

His stomach twists and doesn't allow himself to think of any child that shares his DNA. Even hypothetically, it's not something he wants to think about. Danny concedes enough he hopes it will end the conversation. "They would be genetically blessed, that's true."

That earns him a genuine smile and he tugs on her hand. "Come on. Party's still going. Don't stay in here; let's go have a little fun.  
   
Mindy looks at him like he's the crazy one now. But she goes.

* * *

 They reopen the office on the 27th for two days only before closing again for the New Year, which seems like a complete waste to Mindy. She still comes in, apparently much to everyone's surprise. After an hour this morning spent with cucumber slices over her swollen eyelids, a generous helping of concealer, and the brightest dress she can find pulled hastily from the hanger, she actually looks pretty freaking great, if she does say so herself. 

The morning goes more smoothly than she thought it would, filled with only her favorite patients. By lunchtime her face hurts from the forced smile she's worn for hours. There's a knock on her office door and reflexively Mindy forces the corners of her mouth up before seeing that it's just Danny. She drops the pretense and watches as he shuts the door behind himself, a large, white plastic bag in his hand. 

"I brought lunch from that place you like."

Mindy's stomach growls at the smell, but after days sustained solely on red wine and chocolate the idea of solid food is enough to make her have to swallow down the acrid taste rising in her throat. "Thanks, but I don't think--"

"It's a thoughtful gesture. You have to at least pretend to eat a little of it. I even got your order right."

Danny begins pulling items out of the sack, and she's intrigued that he even has any idea what she orders from this place. "If you actually got my order right, I'll eat at least some of it."

He grins, setting his tuna salad sandwich aside, and begins displaying each container in front of her like he thinks he's so clever. "Extra large potato soup, no chives. Extra container cheddar cheese. Extra container bacon bits. Bread bowl on the side." 

Okay, so he's clever. "I am very impressed, Danny. How did you even know that? We've eaten there, like, once." 

"Simple. You always want extra of the things that are going to give you high cholesterol. You're always afraid you're going to have onion breath. And you rant about the idiocies of the basic concept of bread bowl at least twice a month."

"Well that's very thoughtful. And only mildly insulting. Thank you."

Danny shrugs and flops into the chair across from her, immediately digging into his sandwich, stuffing a fourth of it into his mouth on the first bite. She tears a tiny piece off the empty bread bowl and dips an edge into her still-steaming soup. It's hot and maybe tastes better than anything Mindy's ever eaten before, and she crosses her fingers her body won't immediately reject it. 

"I happen to agree with you about that," Danny says, mouth still full.

"About what?"

"The whole concept of a bread bowl. It's ridiculous."

"Right?! By the time you've eaten all the soup the bread is all soggy and cold, and if you eat the bread while there's still soup in it, the whole thing becomes structurally unsound. Then bam! A lap full of scalding hot soup! It's such a waste of good bread."

They eat in silence for a few minutes, Danny finishing his sandwich before Mindy can take three bites of her soup. He throws the wadded up wrapper in the plastic bag still sitting on her desk, and stands to go. 

"Thank you."

Danny turns from the door, hands on his hips. "What for? Lunch? I think it was my turn to buy anyway."

"Lunch. And for staying the other night. I don't think I remembered to thank you for doing what you did. I really appreciate it, Danny."

"Yeah," he shakes his head. "It wasn't anything. Oh! That does remind me though..." Danny shoves a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out several sheets of copy paper, folded twice so they fit in his pocket. "No hurry, but I went ahead and filled out my part. I know how long it takes you to get paperwork done." He grins wide. "I figure five years should be plenty of time." 

Mindy frowns when he hands the papers to her, noticing his neat block-lettering covering half the first page before seeing the header: New York State Application for Marriage License.

He's down the hall before she can even take a deep breath and try come up with at least a snappy comeback. Mindy doesn't know if she should be irritated - it may be too soon to be joking about this - or find it what it really is: absolutely fucking preposterously hilarious. She does know that for the first time in a week she has a genuine smile on her face.

* * *

  **Since I'll probably be asleep, and you and your best friend**

**tier will be, I'm guessing, drunk into oblivion, Happy New**

**Year early.  
  
**

**To: Mindy 12:43pm - December 31, 2012  
**  

_Au contraire, my friend. (About the friend tier, the drunkenness_

_is a maybe.) Happy New Year. Enjoy going to bed at 9, old man.  
_

_To: Danny 12:45pm - December 31, 2012  
_  

**You seriously don't have like 8 of your best friends lined up**

**for** **a blitzkrieg of alcohol and debauchery?  
**

**To: Mindy 12:49pm - December 31, 2012  
**  

_No.  
_

_To: Danny 12:49pm - December 31, 2012  
_  

**Are you at home?  
**

**To Mindy 12:57pm - December 31, 2012  
**  

_Why?  
_

_To: Danny 12:57pm - December 31, 2012_  

* * *

It's a feeling maybe a little too familiar. At least now that she's in her early thirties. It's that universal feeling of intense discomfort combined with regret that comes only from drinking way, way too much. Mindy assesses. She rolls her neck, and her head thumps in time with the beat of her heart. Okay, this is going to be a pretty bad one. She wiggles her fingers and toes; no paralysis. All of her major organs feel relatively functional, save for her liver. That, she would swear, she can feel straining. 

The bed Mindy's lying in is comfortable, her face mashed into a nice-smelling feather pillow. She's 90% certain it's her bed she's in, and 75% certain she's in it alone. The alone part tugs momentarily at her gut, and for once it's not because of fucking Josh. There's just something tugging right at the edge of her consciousness that makes her think maybe there was a chance she almost hooked up with someone last night. 

Covering her eyes with her hand, Mindy breaks the disgustingly crusty seal of her eyes and peeks through her fingers: no one. She's alone. Thank God. Not that a random hook-up wouldn't be allowed in this situation. She's still well within the "your boyfriend's a cheating slimeball from hell" window where it is still acceptable to do a rando. Not really the way she wants to start the new year, though. 

Ugh, New Year's Day. It's supposed to be a time for resolutions and fresh starts. That's a joke. She'll be lucky if she can make it into the shower today, and is already thinking the best course of action, once she can make all of her limbs work, is a pot of coffee followed by a mimosa breakfast. 

Mindy drags her hand across her face, willing her head to stop throbbing and rubbing the grit from her eyes. The warm edge of cheap metal scratches the bridge of her nose and her eyes blearily focus on the thin, adjustable band on her finger she doesn't remember putting there. It isn't something of hers because "adjustable jewelry" is not a thing. 

Pulling her hand away to get a better look at the too-cheap-to-be-anything-but-rhinestone on the ring finger of her left hand, Mindy starts to remember. With stomach-churning clarity she remembers every single moment of the night before. And she wishes to God she didn't. 


	2. Timelines Are Meant To Be Broken

**New Year's Eve 2012**  

_The knock on the door scares her more than it should, a day's worth of murder shows making her jumpy. Mindy's nearly positive she knows who it is, although she cannot for the life of her figure out why he's here. Checking the peephole (yeah, she's pretty sure no one put a hit out on her, but one can never be too careful), she opens the door to find the exact, and truly least expected person she thought would be there._

_"Don't make a big deal out of this." Danny breezes past her, uninvited into her apartment._

_"A big deal about what?" Mindy latches the door behind him and notices the stout bottle of very good Patron Silver in his hand. "Why are you here?"_

_"The better question is, where the hell are all your friends?" He pulls a lime from his pants pocket._

_"They're -" She swallows hard and reminds herself she doesn't owe the man who just barged into her apartment any explanations. "Respecting my wishes. I told everyone I wanted to just spend a quiet night in. Alone."_

_"Bullshit. Where are your shotglasses?" Danny's opening and shutting cupboards and she's too surprised to do anything but gape at him. He finds them without her assistance._

_"Here. Oh, you want lime?" he asks, handing her a shot._ _Mindy shakes her head at him. "Me neither. Cheers."_

_Their glasses clink together wetly, tequila sloshing and running down her fingers. Mindy follows his lead and downs the shot. It leaves a smooth, warm trail all the way down her throat. He takes the empty glass from her and pours another. "What are we doing?"_

_"Right now we're day-drinking. And then once you've had enough to stop lying, you're going to tell me why you don't have plans tonight. And then we're going to make plans. Cheers."_

_They throw the shots back again, and Mindy can't help the smile that twists at her face. It's weird. The whole thing is weird. She pads to the sofa, for the first time becoming conscious of her side-ponytail, yoga pants and over-sized T-shirt. Since it's just Danny she doesn't actually care, but it's not selling her "I'm doing fantastic, nothing to see here" attitude. He follows and takes the other end of the sofa, slinging an arm across the back and setting the tequila bottle on the rug._

_He's watching her with dark eyes that almost look like he genuinely cares, and it's enough to make her start talking. "I could have had plans, if I wanted. There's a big party tonight my friend Devon is throwing. It's going to be sick."_

_"So... Why the hell are you moping around in your pajamas watching - what is that?" He gestures to the TV where there's a gruesome, poorly acted murder being recreated._

_She grabs the remote and clicks off the TV. "_ Because _. It_ sounds _like fun, and normally it would be. But this year I think I'd rather end up like poor, dumb Gretchen," she waggles the remote towards the dark TV screen, "who didn't know she married an ax-murder than go to this party."_

_"Because?...."_

_"Couples, Danny! It's all couples. All of my friends there, all paired up and in different stages of happiness, all of which will make me want to slit my wrists before the ball drops."_

_"Okay. You don't have any single friends you could hang out with?"_

_"Give Alex until the end of the night, and then maybe."_ _He shakes his head, not understanding. "She's_ this close _to dumping her boyfriend. Doesn't matter. And no. Not really. And I don't really feel like very good company at the moment, Danny. I was very happy just spending the night in. By myself."_

_"You say that now, but come midnight are you honestly telling me you wouldn't be crying directly into a bottle of wine and missing your piece of crap boyfriend?"_

_"NO!" Mindy shakes her head emphatically, and the two shots of tequila are starting to seep in, a slow-growing warmth in her fingers. Danny's looking back at her in a way that she hates purely because it is so accurately disbelieving. "Okay, fine! That's exactly how that would go. What's the harm in that, Danny? Why not just leave me here to cry into my wine alone? Why are you acting like you care if I have a crappy New Year?"_

_That changes things. He looks away hastily and shrugs. "I didn't have anything going on tonight anyway."_

_"Okayyyyy. God, you are such a weirdo sometimes."_

_Danny picks the bottle up from the floor and uncorks it. "So. What do you want to do today? We've got to come up with something other than just drinking or we'll both be too drunk to even know what decade it is before we get to midnight."_

* * *

_Going to The Golden Unicorn is an excellent idea, if Mindy does think so herself. Since it's only a little after three o'clock when they get there, they make it just in time to still order dim sum. The bottle of something called baijiu they kill is maybe less of a good idea. By the time they make it out onto the sidewalk over an hour later, after consuming an unholy amount of food along with drink, Mindy and Danny are both fully, unrelentingly drunk._

_She thinks she's carrying it well, even if that may not be accurate. Mindy is walking in fairly a straight line down Worth Street, just on the edge of China Town, and not even slurring her words. The key is the food. It's acting as a buffer, disguising the telltale signs. Give her an hour for it to all settle and she'll be asleep on the nearest flat surface she can find._

_It isn't hard to tell that Danny is SUPER wasted, even though she's never seen him drunk before. Like her, his speech is clear, if tinged with a much stronger Staten accent than usual, and he's smiling which is extremely weird. He's also touching her pretty freely. It's something he's started doing very occasionally, but this afternoon it's constant; a hand on her back or arm draped over her shoulders. Mindy doesn't mind. It's too cold for the light coat she's wearing, and even in the late afternoon sunshine and the alcohol making her cheeks flush, it feels good having his body leaning heavy and warm into hers._

_"We should really come up with something else to do," he says, breath warm against the side of her face._

_"No more drinking. I can't. We need to keep moving, Danny, or I'm going to fall asleep."_

_"Hey! Don't do that." He jostles her hard and there's a scary moment where she's afraid that last steamed pork bun might come back up._ _Mindy stops haltingly just past the entrance to Columbus Park and swallows hard._ _"Mindy? You okay?"_

_"I don't think that was wine."_

_"Huh?"_

_"That ba- baij- Whatever it was you ordered. I know the server said it translated to white wine, but I don't think..." She takes another deep breath through her nose and it does a lot to clear her head, the sun ducking behind the large building across the street making it where she doesn't have to squint._

_"I honestly don't know what any of that was we just had. You're the one who picked the restaurant, remember."_

_Mindy nods slowly and leans further into him, feeling better by the moment, her food settling and the standing still feeling like just what she needs. The whatever it was they drank is numbing her skin and making her want to curl inside Danny's coat with him. She doesn't realize she's closed her eyes until he nudges her, his cheek resting against the top of her head. "I should probably get you home. I think maybe we both overshot the runway a little. Let's just get a cab."_

_She nods her agreement slowly and lifts her gaze up, looking for anything fast-moving and yellow. It's not a cab that catches her eye, though. It's the building across the street. She blinks, making sure she's seeing what she thinks she's seeing, and it's not some alcohol-induced delusion. It isn't and she can't stifle the laugh leaping out of her throat._

_"What?" Danny pulls away from her, his eyes glazed slightly, and the way he's looking at her like she may be crazy only makes her laugh harder._

_She reaches for the chain of her purse, tugging on it until her fingers find the quilted-leather. It's a small bag, the same one she's been carrying all week, and it doesn't take even a moment looking to pull out the still-half-filled-out document. "We're a little early on our timetable, but...."_

_"Wha-" Mindy can see the exact moment his brain makes the connection between the joke of a marriage license application in her hand and the building before them:_ The Office of the City Clerk: Marriage Bureau

_"Well, buddy. What do you say?" She laughs again, and this time it's maybe a little more bitter than she intended. Suddenly she wants to be home, back in her pajamas watching murder shows. This sucks._

_"Okay." Danny says it so quietly she thinks maybe she imagined it. Her eyes roam his face, waiting for the punchline. Instead, he shrugs._

_"Are - Danny, are you being serious right now?"_

_"Are you?"_

_"No, not really. Are_ YOU _?"_

_"No. Of course not. It's just...."_

_"It's just_ what _?"_

_"If we're going to do it in five years, might as well do it today, right? I mean, we've already got the paperwork half done, and we're here. I really don't want to have to come back down here later when we can just get it over with right now."'_

_"Danny Castellano, that is the single dumbest thing you have every said. And that's saying a lot. "_ Might as well, we're already here." _?! You're insane."_

_"You're right. Let's get a cab." He presses his hand into the small of her back and propels her forward._

_"Wait." Mindy plants her feet and looks at back him. "You were being for real just now, weren't you?"_

_"No. Forget about it. Let's go."_

_"You WERE. Oh my God. You are actually planning on going through with the whole "if neither of us are married in five years" thing, aren't you?"_

_"Aren't you?"_

_"Aren't YOU?"_

_"Okay, Mindy, we're going in circles. This conversation is making me dizzy. Can we just drop it."_

_"Let's do it," she says, meaning it more than she thinks maybe she should, and also maybe a little bit to call his bluff._

_"Do what?"_

_"Get married today."_

_"Ha. Ha. Point taken. I was being absurd. Let it go for now. You can make fun of me all you want tomorrow. If you even remember this tomorrow."_

_"I always remember everything, thank you. And now I'm the one being serious. This has been a truly shit year, Danny. I'm tired. I don't want to do it anymore. Let's just tie the stupid knot. Then I can at least register at some nice department stores and make all the thousand stupid people I know who I'VE had to buy presents for actually get_ me _something for a change. Plus we would get some pretty sweet tax breaks. It's time for me to face facts: I'm never going to find anybody remotely decent who doesn't cheat on me. And you're clearly too broken and are never going to get married again. Your acquiescing so quickly is proof of that."_

_Danny blinks at her but doesn't seem to be able to form an argument._

_"Well?"_

_"I'm thinking," he says._

_"Right. Of course. Big moment. Take your time. I will point out that you are the one who's already filled out the marriage license application...."_ _There's a steady stream of people walking past them in both directions, jostling them closer together, then further apart. The look on Danny's face never alters, a deep crease in his forehead._

_Mindy sighs and sees a cab with its light on headed in their direction. She takes a step closer to the curb and raises her arm. It's pulling up to them when she feels her hand being tugged down, Danny's fingers sliding around her palm._

_If she had to guess, she'd say her face probably looks the same as his at that moment; wide-eyed and shocked, but decisive._

_Holy shit. They're getting married._


	3. As Hangovers Go...

**New Year's Day 2013 - Days Married: 1**  

Oh God. Mindy struggles upright, tugging hard on the ring binding her finger. It's being a bitch and won't come off. How does an adjustable ring get stuck? Her phone is not on her nightstand or anywhere tangled in the bed sheets, although she does find that bra and pack of Sour Straws she'd been looking for. She staggers from the bed, hoping her phone is in her purse. And hoping her purse is somewhere in her apartment. 

A rogue edge of the sheet is somehow wrapped around her ankle and before she can tug it free and keep her balance steady she falls, her knee hitting the rug hard, the carpet burning her. Mindy's outstretched palms smack the hardwood just beyond the rug and she yelps in as much surprise as pain. Impotent tears burn her eyes for no other reason than she can't control anything right now, including her own tear ducts. Her whole body pulses like an exposed nerve. 

As she hangs there, foot still caught up and hands planted in some kind of messed up looking downward facing dog, Mindy hears a groaning coming from the living room followed by dull thumb and sharp curse. 

There's somebody in her apartment.

Mindy screams, of course. Who wouldn't scream when clearly, on what is already rapidly becoming one of the worst days of her life, there turns out to be a murderer in her home?

"What the hell? Can you please keep it down in--" Danny stands in the doorway of her bedroom, rubbing the base of his palm in his eye-socket, nothing on but very-tighty whities. Which from her angle looking up from the floor leaves little to the imagination. "What are doing down there?" 

"Oh my God, Danny. I can see your penis! Get that thing out of my face!" As a reflex she throws a hand over her eyes, her balance faltering when she does and she slides down even further, Mindy's shoulder smacking the floor. It will probably leave a bruise, but at this moment it feels worth it not to have the underside of his junk thrust in her face. 

"How did you get so tangled? Jeez," he sighs, and she can feel the pads of his fingers against the sole of her foot as he unwinds the sheet. Finally freed, she tumbles the rest of the way to the floor, her over-sized T-shirt flying over her torso. Mindy hastily jerks it down before she can flash him her boobs, the granny panties she likes to sleep in being modest enough that she's not all that worried about her lower half. 

When she gets herself situated and returns her attention to him, she finds Danny sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes squeezed tight and hunched forward, palms on his knees and knuckles white. "Danny? Danny. You look like you're going to hurl. Please don't puke on my rug. It's imported from Shangri La or somewhere, made by blind orphaned nuns or something. It probably cost more than the home you grew up in."

Slowly he shakes his head. "Not going to be sick. Just moved too quick." 

Well, that's something Mindy can relate to. So not to be a hypocrite, she pulls the duvet from where it's barely clinging to the bed and covers herself before asking, "You're still basically naked. Can you maybe..."

That gets his eyes open, flashing down to his crotch before tugging the top-sheet over his lap, the excess fabric fisted at his waist. "I am . . . exceptionally . . ."

"Hung over?"

"That. Maybe more like the embodiment of death. How much did we drink last night?" 

"Volume? Surprisingly little. But you do remember that Google search you did on my phone, right? Oh! Have you seen my phone?" 

"I don't know. I don't remember any search. Shit, I'm not sure I remember my name." 

"Well, it turns out that bottle of "white wine" you ordered with our fashionably late dim sum lunch was basically grain alcohol, which explains - wait.  _How_  much do you remember?" 

Danny squints and there's a feeling of dread bubbling up in her stomach, mixed with a truly perverse kind of excitement. Because if he doesn't remember, that means she gets to be the one to tell him. It's twisted, yet somehow it makes her feel better. "I remember coming here and doing shots. And I remember you taking approximately two hours to get ready to go out."

"Okay, it took me forty-five minutes, tops. Which is actually a land speed record for me to get that level of glammed up, thank you." 

"Yeah, good for you then. Dim sum. I remember it was surprisingly delicious, because judging from the way that place looked I was skeptical. It was like some gilded Asian nightmare."

"Danny Castellano: Skeptic. There's a shocker," she mutters. 

"Yeah. That's it."

"Soooo, that's  _honestly all_ you remember? Seriously?" 

He closes his eyes again, his whole face looking puffy and lax. "Mm, yeah. Why?"

Mindy's mouth opens and closes a few times, unsure when it comes to it how she actually says the words to him.

"Oh God, it's bad, isn't it? Just tell me. Did you talk me into getting some weird tattoo or something? What did you get me into?"

"Excuse you? This was your doing, buddy. Although, I was more of a willing participant that I would care to admit. Not as permanent as a tattoo, though. Not quite."

He scrubs a hand across his jaw and she can actually hear the stubble scratching his skin. "Just--"

"It's no big deal, Danny. We'll just have to do a little bit of paperwork and then it will be like it never happened," she tries to infuse as much cheer into her voice as possible. 

"Like WHAT never happened, Mindy?"

"Plenty of perfectly nice, dateable guys have been divorced twice by the time they're in their mid-forties."

* * *

The hangover is messing with his hearing. Because it sounded a little bit like she just said-- 

"Holy shit." He's going to puke on her precious goddamned rug.

"There you go, man." She pats his knee through the sheet in a way he thinks she must intend to be comforting. "It coming back to you a little now?"

There are flashes, grey, terrifying flashes of the two of them in an official-looking building; of an argument over something stupid that he still feels like was important to him, and then -- Oh. That's the clearest of all the nightmare/memories; it's Mindy standing in front of him with a sprig of sad flowers in one hand, and the other hand is in his. 

"We didn't. Mindy -- tell me we didn't?" 

There's a fracture in what has so far been a pretty believable brightness, her shoulders slumping as she drops back to rest against the nightstand. "We did. You and me. Hitched."

"That's--" His brain rushes to figure this out. Not even the why - it's twisted, but he at least remembers the stupid conversations and jokes that led up to it, plus they were stupid drunk - but the  _how_. How would the state of New York allow this to happen? "Well, it's not valid. We were drunk.  _Very_  drunk. So it doesn't count." 

"That is very true; we were hammered. But it doesn't matter. We make very believable sober people, Danny. And we signed everything saying we were of sound mind, blah, blah, blah." 

"The waiting period!" he shouts, and the words pierce his own ears. Mindy flinches. "When I got married, like married-married for real, there was a waiting period. We had to drop off the paperwork together, both of us, and then go back after a 24 hour waiting period. It's a failsafe so stupid, drunk assholes don't end up married."

"Hey!" 

"Sorry. I included myself in that, by the way, so don't get too offended. Anyway, see? You must not be remembering the rest of it. There's no way we could have actually gone through with it." Just saying the words makes relief wash through him so hard it somehow makes even his hangover feel better. 

"Janet Markaway."

Mindy's got her mouth in a serious line, like she thinks she's actually saying something meaningful. "What? Who are you talking about?"

" _Janet Markaway, Danny._ "

This time it does spark something, but for the life of him he can't come up with whatever connection she's trying to make. "Okay, Janet Markaway. She's - she's a patient of mine." Danny narrows his eyes and tries to remember her medical history, as if that could possibly be relevant. "One kid. A daughter. I think I delivered her right after my residency.... Last year she had a cancer scare and had a full hysterect-"

" _JUDGE_  Janet Markaway."

"Oh shit."

"Yup."

"You called my patient?! That's completely inappropriate, Mindy, even for you!"

" _I'M_  not the one who called her!" 

Judicial Waiver. He shouldn't know those words.... "I called her."

"You did."

"I can't believe I called a patient, drunk, to ask a personal favor," he groans, his eyeballs starting to throb. "Wait. Did she have to--"

"Come down there to sign the paperwork? Yes. But she said she was nearby and seemed genuinely happy for us. She even stayed to be our witness." Mindy shrugs. 

It's too much to remain seated on the edge of the bed, too high up and he's a little afraid he may tip over onto the floor. He slides down, the sheet draping over one shoulder like a toga, and sits eye-level with his -- oh, Jesus.

Danny hangs his head, already knowing the answer to the question. "I hugged her, didn't I?"

"A lot. For a really long time. An uncomfortably long time."

"Yeah." He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the soft mattress. So. He and Mindy got married. It's not the most preposterous -- fuck. Yes it is. Mindy Lahiri is legally his wife. On a list of least likely, most preposterous things that could be fathomed, that is easily in the top five. Right after going back in time to get to see Mickey Mantle play ball, and right before being asked to play keyboard in the E Street Band.

It's the longest he's ever noticed her being quiet, and Danny cracks an eyelid open to make sure she's still awake. Mindy got the side of her face resting against the mattress, same as him, and her eyes are open, staring vacantly out the window into the late-morning sunlight of a new day. A new  _year._  

Okay. This will be okay. It's not like it was anything other than a ridiculous, unfortunately well facilitated mistake. They'll just get an annulment. It isn't like they --

"Did we have sex last night?" His voice creaks as he nearly chokes on the words.

"Yes. I rocked your world. You said I was the best you ever had. It was so good for you, you actually cried."

"Oh, thank God." Mindy's head whips toward him, eyes flared, completely misconstruing his meaning. "Come on. Clearly you're full of it. It's good." 

"This is why you can't keep a wife, Danny. You say some seriously mean shit to your wives. Your first ex-wife and I are going to have to start a club." 

"Okay, that is seriously not funny. And what? It's mean because I'm relieved we didn't have drunken sex to consummate this Godawful sham of a marriage?"

"Yeah, alright. Learn to take a joke, man. Wouldn't mind meeting your first ex-wife, though. That would be super-weird, and probably a lot of fun." 

"Trust me, you wouldn't say that if you knew her. Or, at least if you'd ever been married to her." 

"Fair enough. I'll settle very happily for being your favorite former wife." Mindy's smiling openly at him now, and it's so ridiculous it is actually enough to make him attempt a smile back. "Now what? You've done this before. Do we just call one of those numbers from the subway ads for cheap, no-contest divorces?"

"No. No divorce."

She kicks his thigh hard with her foot, bare toes cold against his skin. "Well, we sure as hell aren't trying to "make it work" just because you're too prideful to have been divorced twice, you freak." 

"Stop. Will you stop?" Danny grasps her foot through the sheet and the memory of doing this exact same gesture at the Christmas party, just a little over a week ago, flashes. He would have never believed it had he known then what he knows now. "We'll dissolve it, don't worry. I just can't get a divorce."

"Why not? You've already done it once. At this point you should get a discount or something."

"Ha. Ha. And no, actually. I've never been divorced."

"Oh my God, Danny! You're a bigamist?! I knew you were hiding some weird secret, but I just figured you had a gross fetish or something. This is way worse. How many of us are there?"

"Would you stop? I'm not a bigamist." Jeez, this woman. Mindy's still giving him her best overly dramatic side-eye and he can't help adding. "And in the eyes of God we're not really married, so you're just going to have to wonder about what fetishes I'm into." 

Her mouth drops open, chin all the way down to her chest, and he can't help the smirk that plays across his lips before closing his eyes and resting his head back again. Danny can hear her snort a barely repressed laugh before it evens out into steady breaths. His hand is still on her foot. Under the heat of his touch her toes are warm now. 

Danny takes a deep breath and forms the best course of action he can wrap his addled mind around, and he stands. "We'll get an annulment. That's what I did before." She opens her mouth like she wants to ask questions, but suddenly he can't. He needs to get out of here. "It should be pretty simple, considering. Since it's my second there may be a few more hoops to jump through, but it really shouldn't be more than some paperwork. At most we'll have to go before a judge. I'll handle as much of it I can on my own."

Mindy's looking up at him, mouth now firmly clamped shut and eyebrows only slightly raised. 

"I should go home." He keeps the sheet wrapped around himself, and she pushes up to follow him as he walks to the living room. "Have you -- do you see my clothes?" 

She finds them shoved, wrinkled beyond decency, under the sofa. He takes a minute in the bathroom getting dressed avoiding his eyes in the mirror. Mindy's standing by her front door waiting for him, the same over-sized T-shirt and yoga pants on that she was wearing when he showed up the day before. The only addition is the fake, plastic ring on her finger, the one he doesn't remember putting there. "I'll -- um. I'll get everything started. Like I said. Okay?"

"Yeah." She nods.

"Right. See you back at the office tomorrow then." His hand's on the doorknob, but it feels like he should do or say something. What is the correct thing manners-wise in this situation? 

Mindy handles it for him, pressing her cheek fleetingly against his with a smack of her lips that never actually touches his skin. "Thanks, Danny. For handling it. And for yesterday, too. Not the whole -- you know. But for coming over and trying to cheer me up. Until we decided to get married, it was kind of a great New Year's Eve." 

"Um," he opens the door and suddenly feels a little weird leaving her here alone like this. "You're welcome. I guess." 

Mindy closes the door behind him, and he waits, listening to make sure she flips the deadbolt and latches the chain. She does. He stands there for another minute before walking to the elevator, this time not sure what it is he's listening for. 


	4. Keep Your Friends Close

**Saturday, January 12th, 2013 - Days Married: 13  ** 

"I need you." 

Danny pulls the phone away and looks at the caller ID, just to be sure, before pushing it back to his ear. Rolling the stool he's sitting on further away from the exam table, he bites back a smirk. "Who is this?"

Mindy huffs into the phone. "I need you to come over and help me with something. It's important."

"What?"

"Um, it's kind of a carpentry project. You look like you've built things before."

"No, Mindy. I'm with a patient right now." 

"Then why'd you answer your phone? And why are you working on a Saturday?"

"I, unlike some peo-" he starts.

"Doesn't matter. Come over as soon as you're finished with this appointment." Danny doesn't have a chance to reply before the line goes dead.

* * *

She has to duck her head a little to sit on the bottom bunk next to him. "I'm  _so_  gonna score godmother points with this thing. Thank you so much for helping me with this, Danny."

He turns to her, eyebrows raised, and she amends her comment. "Thank you for _single-handedly_  assembling the bunk bed for me, you narcissist. God, sometimes you're the worst."

"Good job with the compliment. Thanks." 

There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and she tucks her leg under her and turns toward him. Curiosity has been tugging at her ever since he brought it up earlier, and she can't resist asking about it now. "So you seriously raised your little brother?" 

"Oh." He looks surprised. "Um, well, yeah. Kinda. Not completely by myself or anything, we had our ma around." She nods and hopes that's enough to get him to continue. "She had at least two jobs, though. Sometimes three. So there was a lot of time just the two of us. Plus he's a lot younger than me-"

"So he's around my ag-"

"Don't say it." He holds his hand out, cutting her off. "We're not having this argument again. No, he's nine years younger than me. I don't know - it wasn't anything special. I just tried to do good by him."

"Like how?"

Danny shrugs and mirrors the way she's sitting so that he's leaned against one of the posts, facing her. "Teach him things. How to throw a baseball. Not get his ass kicked at school. I don't know - make sure that when Ma was working nights there was a decent supper cooked and help him with his homework."

"Aw, Danny. That's really sweet." She splays her fingers across his knee. "Is that why you don't want kids? Because in a way it already feels like you've been there, done that?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his T-shirt straining. "I never said I didn't want kids."

"Oh." She just assumed. Honestly Mindy can picture him clearly with a brood of grumpy little brats who all look just like him, Danny's hair grey from finally getting back ten-fold everything he's ever dished out. She'd pay to see that, actually. "So you want kids. Why don't you have any then?"

"I don't -- You know that's very personal. Why do you even care?" 

"Never said I cared. I'm just curious. And don't avoid the question."

He huffs out a breath, lips pursed, and there's a moment she thinks he's going to evade again. "There was a time when I did want kids, but I'm not sure that's something I want anymore. Plus it's not like I'm really in a position for that." 

"So your wife didn't want kids? And now you're too old? Is that it?"

He grins, and there's a little mischievousness hiding behind it. "Which wife?"

"Ugh," she groans, burying her face in her hands. "That's gross. Don't bring me into this; I'm not having your babies. Oh! You did start the annulment paperwork, right?"

"No, and no."

"What does that mean? Are you going to hold me hostage as your wife until I agree to let you impregnate me? Because that's not going to happen, buddy. I was not serious about us having genetically blessed, hairy children."

"No, I haven't started the annulment paperwork yet. But it's only been like a week, so calm down. I'll start on it as soon as I have an off day. And no," he says a little more hesitantly. "Christina didn't want children."

"Oh. And you did? Is that why you two got divorced?"

"Partly. We wanted different things, in a lot of ways, and it was too much. It pulled us apart. That," he tips his head like he's unsure how to phrase what he's about to say, "and it had a lot to do with me finding her having sex with someone else in our bed."

" _Oh my God, Danny_. Are you serious?"

He nods and doesn't look at her. "That was pretty much that." A dark smile slowly paints his face that is nearly painful to behold. "Good thing we didn't have those kids I wanted, huh?"

Damn. Suddenly a bunch of jokes she's made about his wife leaving him feel a lot more mean-spirited than she meant them. Mindy reaches forward, grabbing his hand and hoping a few trite words will cover a number of ills. "I'm sorry."

He squeezes her fingers back and finally meets her eyes again. "Thanks."

She means to say something else, means to move her hand. Somehow whatever it was she intended has evaporated. It can't even be as long as a minute, but they stay like that until there's a knock on the door.

* * *

Mindy pushes onto her tiptoes, stretching to reach the wineglasses.  

"So, you and Riley seemed to actually have a nice evening. Just the two of you." 

Corking the bottle of decent red after pouring a generous amount in each glass, she narrows her eyes at her friend. "You mean that to sound like a compliment, but I hear the skepticism in your tone. For the record, things were a little touch and go at the beginning, sure. But it turns out I have a very natural rapport with children. Your kid loves me."

"There was never any doubt in that. I am glad, though, to see you two bonding. You should spend more time together, just the two of you. It will be good experience for when you finally get off your ass and make me a godmother."

Mindy snorts into her wineglass before taking a gulp.

"What? You roll your eyes at me every time I suggest you spend bonding time with my daughter. It isn't about free childcare, Mindy," she says before muttering. "Not always, anyway."

"No, no, Gwen. It's not that. Just reminded me of something Danny and I were talking about earlier. You're right. I should put in more time being Cool Aunt Mindy."

"Thank you, yes. You should." They wander from the kitchen and take opposite sides of the sofa so they can both stretch out, legs aligned and feet at the others' hip. "I'm not sure I see it, by the way." 

"Hmm? See what?" Mindy picks at the edge of a throw pillow.

"You've told me some of the stuff he's said to you before - which I still agree is terrible - but honestly Danny didn't seem like all that much of a jerk to me."

"Ha! Get to know him better." There's a sick, tugging feeling in the pit of her stomach as soon as the words are out of her mouth and Mindy takes a long sip of her wine. "That's -- I don't mean that. Did I call him a jerk?"

"That. And several other, more colorful things. The rant at our 4th of July picnic last year was especially vulgar."

She remembers the picnic... but no. Mindy doesn't have any memory of some supposed rant, well-articulated or otherwise.

"Do you really not remember this? I had to lie to my child and tell her a douche nozzle was an attachment for the garden hose."

"Are you sure I said that? Because - and I'm being honest here Gwen, because I love you - but sometimes you can be a little dramatic about remembering things."

" _YES!_  I cannot believe you're sitting here telling me that you have no recollection of -- no. No." Gwen wiggles the fingers of her right hand, still partially wrapped around her wineglass, in the air between them. "I'm not doing this. Let's start over." She clears her throat and takes a deep breath, her voice soft and even when she speaks again. "Your coworker Danny seems like a fairly nice guy."

"Eh," she shrugs. "Sometimes he can be a real jerk." 

Mindy shrieks and has to duck to miss the pillow chucked at her face, Gwen somehow managing impressive dexterity with her left arm despite the cast. The deep-red wine in her glass comes dangerously close to splashing. "I'm kidding! Stop. He's not a jerk. Every once in a while he will say jerk-like things, sure, but he's actually a pretty decent guy. He even rescheduled his last two appointments today to come build the bunk bed."

"Not a jerk," Gwen nods. "Also not a very good carpenter."

"No," she laughs. "He needs to work on his bolt-tightening skills apparently. I don't know. He's been surprisingly nice recently." She's not sure what changed. Mindy shakes her head and tries to pinpoint just exactly when a man she couldn't stand became her friend. "You know the whole Josh-cheating-on-me/Christmas-party-debacle? Danny canceled his date that night to stay for the rest of the party and cheer me up." 

"See? That's a very thoughtful gesture. Maybe you were wrong about him." 

"Gwen, I'm never wrong. You know this. Yeah, though. Maybe he's changed. I don't know. He did come over New Year's Eve so I wouldn't have to spend it alone." Mindy pushes her toes into the crevice of the sofa cushion.

"That's thoughtful. And he was very helpful getting me in immediately to see a doctor at the hospital tonight. Which I think being there may have worked out well for him, actually. He was getting this obnoxiously pretty, one-eyed girl's phone number when I came out."

"She only had  _one eye_?" Mindy leans forward a little, her interest piqued. "She must have been  _amazing_  looking to offset that."

"Mm, I'm assuming she has both of them, there was just a patch so I couldn't tell. But even if there was a Kill Bill type situation under there, I still think she wouldn't have a hard time finding guys to date."

"Lucky." Mindy casts her eyes down and wonders what it says about her frame of mind when she's jealous of the dating prowess of a hot, maimed woman. Not every man can be like Josh, though. Right? Sure the last two serious relationships she's been in resulted in cheating and public humiliation, but she refuses to let that quash the dream of finding Mr. Right. Mindy refuses to die a lonely, beautiful spinster. Although...

"So, I forgot to mention, Danny and I are actually, kind of.... married."

Gwen nods thoughtfully, taking the news surprisingly in stride. "I guess I can see that with you two. He did help you build the bed. Although I've never really understood the whole "work-married" thing. What is it? Like, there's no sex and you fight about the same stupid things over and over - like it's  _that_  hard to put your coffee cup in the dishwasher instead of just  _SETTING IT IN THE DAMN SINK?"_ Gwen takes a breath. "-- but at the end of the day you're still partners? Because that does  _not_  sound dissimilar to a real marriage."

"Hmm. That is, surprisingly, accurate. But no." Mindy stretches forward precariously to snatch her phone from the coffee table. Scrolling quickly through the photos, she comes to the few she took that afternoon. Most are blurry shots of whatever random thing seemed important at the time that no longer makes sense. There are a few clear ones, and Mindy stops on a selfie of the two of them. They're in the hallway outside of the chapel, standing in front of the black and white mural of the Marriage Bureau Building, only the top part of the dome visible. Danny's almost smiling, his eyes heavy lidded and looking off somewhere just beyond the camera, and Mindy is duck-facing while still trying to project radiance, her eyes shining like glass. There is just enough showing of the marriage license they're holding up to be able to read what it is. 

She shoves the phone toward Gwen. 

"Is that a-   _Oh my-_   _ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!"_ Gwen twists, reaching over her cast to set her glass on the table and then grabbing the phone from Mindy's hand. _"_ You are actually  _married_  to this guy? How the hell could you not tell me?"

"Well, it didn't seem-"

"And why wasn't I invited?  _Mindy?_  What the hell is going on and why are being so nonchalant about your husband picking up blind women at the hospital?" 

"Because it isn't  _real._ " This seemed apparent to Mindy when she started this conversation. Maybe she left out some important details.

"Okay, Mindy. Lying randomly about marrying someone? That is slightly messed up. Even for you." Gwen tosses the phone onto Mindy's lap and gets up. 

"Hey. That's not a very nice thing to say to your best friend. And I didn't mean it come to out that way. We  _are_  married. Technically. He just. . . isn't my husband." She follows Gwen into the kitchen and does as her friend and refills her glass. 

"Okay, then. Fine. Let's back up. You're married to him, but he's not your husband? You kept it a secret for how long? And you have no problem with him picking up other women? What the hell even is that?"

"When you put it that way it - well - it sounds only slightly more strange than what it actually is. It was just a mistake. We were very drunk. And shockingly well organized and connected. And yeah. We got married on New Year's Eve." 

"Unbelievable."

"It is, really. And it  _especially_  was for Danny, because he is  _not_  a good drunk-rememberer."

"No.  _You_ 're unbelievable. And I know, okay, I understand everything that happened with Josh, and that he was a class-A asshole. But instead of spending the night with all your friends who love you, you get loaded and marry a guy from work you barely like?"

"Well-"

"This is why we don't set you up anymore, Mindy. You say you have your life together and then you do things like this. It's one extreme to another. Either you say you're blissfully happy and everything in your life is perfect. Or you go completely off the rails and do something idiotic like this."

Tears sting the backs of her eyes, and Mindy wonders why in the hell she thought it was a good idea to tell Gwen about this in the first place. She should know better by now. And she can't put her finger on what hurts more: her best friend's unbridled contempt, or the truth underlying all of it? Swallowing hard, she tries to pull it together enough to not be the mess she's accused of being. Because her instinct right now is to either lash out and defend herself in the most pain-inflicting way, or storm out. But it's her apartment and Mindy refuses to give Gwen the satisfaction and prove her point for her. She did that at Thanksgiving and it's time for a new tact. 

"You're right. It was stupid and irresponsible. It'll be over, like it never happened, just as soon as Danny's done with the annulment papers." She takes a dainty sip, even though she wants to drain the glass, and finally meets her friend's gaze. "And look on the bright side. You can add this to all the many other "Mindy's Such A Train Wreck" stories."

Gwen's eyes soften slightly, but she doesn't correct her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of this being TMP premiere week (or as some of us very ladylike dames refer to it: We Fuck Tuesday), I'm saying screw my posting schedule. Chapter five will be up some time before Tuesday.


	5. Just Desserts

**Saturday, March 9th, 2013 - Days Married: 68**  

It finally makes sense when she leans in closer where she's seated next to him at the table, her voice low and conspiratorial. "So, Mindy told me about your...  _situation_."

Danny reaches for his beer, his eyes darting around the restaurant. "Situation?" He tries for nonchalance, but the croak in his voice gives him away. 

"That you two are -" Gwen mouths the word  _married_. 

_Shit._  "Listen. That's not-"

"No. I know. She explained everything."

Danny nods, trying to imagine just exactly how Mindy explained something so inexplicable to her friend. Hell,  _he_  doesn't even have all the details. Maybe he should ask Mindy about it. The scant, ephemeral flashes are barely enough to construct what feels like a long forgotten dream. "Who else has she told?"

"No one." Gwen sweeps the wavy length of blonde hair over her shoulder. "Not that I know of, anyway." 

"Good. It's nobody's business." 

"Of course not. I didn't mean to insinuate-"

"No, I know." Danny glances at his watch and wonders how much longer it will be before the birthday girl shows up. "So that's why you enlisted me to help with all this?"

"Hmm, not that specifically. I figured clearly you're friends, and you could easily coordinate everything with all of the people from work." She shrugs, a smile starting to play at her lips. "Plus you were very thoughtful taking me to the ER and waiting for me. Even though it was sort of your fault."

"Hey, that bed was obviously defect-" He cuts his eyes back to her, and she's covering a smile with a crooked finger. "Yeah, okay. Sorry again about that."

"It's fine. No permanent damage." Gwen straightens her left arm out, fingers waggling as proof. 

Even though it was an accident and the bed  _could_  have been defective, it stupidly makes him feel better. Something else she said he can't help lingering on. "She told you we're friends?"

"I don't know if she actually used those words exactly, but yeah. Are you not? I mean you are apparently friendly enough to spend major holidays together. And, ya know," she drops her voice, " _to get married_." 

Right. There is that. "Yeah. I guess we're friends. I just never thought about it in those terms. More like co-workers who hang out sometimes."

"What you're describing is friends."

Danny takes another pull from the beer bottle. He wouldn't have labeled them as that, but he can think of a lot of worse things than having Mindy as a friend.

He thinks that up until the moment Mindy gets her panties in a wad and storms out of her own birthday party like a child. Sometimes she is so insufferable he isn't sure he'll ever be able to understand her. Or if he wants to. Still, it doesn't stop him from following her.

* * *

"What the hell is your problem?"

She doesn't bother slowing her pace, continuing to clomp down 19th Street and spitting the words over her shoulder. "Do you have to ask? It seems like you all know exactly what's wrong with me, in detail. And you felt the need to point every one of those shortcomings out to me  _at my birthday party_."

"Come on! Even you can't be that much of an ungrateful brat." 

She stops hard and turns on her heel, Danny nearly crashing into her. "Why are you following me?" 

He throws his hands up like it should be obvious, but he doesn't actually form any words. 

"Go back to the restaurant, Danny." Mindy walks away again, not knowing where she's headed, but wanting to be anywhere else. Her strides are as long as they can be. The crisp air burns in her lungs when she sucks in a breath, and it makes her feel, if not better, at least different than she did in the savory air of the restaurant. 

She winds around scaffolding, weaving in and out of the flow of slower foot-traffic, making it all the way to 7th Avenue before she feels his fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist. "Wait. Just wait, would you?"

Danny moves in front of her, blocking the way. She jerks free from his grasp to cross her arms over her chest and waits for him to spit out whatever it is so she can finally put this whole debacle of a night behind her. " _What?_ "

"Don't be like this, Mindy. Your friends did a nice thing for you."

"How is this a nice thing?"

"Why? Because you didn't like your gifts? That's ridiculous! How do you not see how petty that is?" There's light from a lamppost on the corner giving him a halo, which she thinks he would probably find fitting.

"They're hurtful. Okay? I basically just had everyone I know call me a fat loser to my face on a night where I really thought I was going to just have a nice dinner with some guy and forget that everything they're saying about me is true." Danny closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them he's staring past her. "Look, I don't expect you to understand. Stop pushing it."

She's able to side-step him just in time to catch the light at the crosswalk. This time when his hand circles the top of her arm, she doesn't even bother trying to shake him off. They're nearly to 8th Avenue before he speaks again. 

"I do understand. At least a little." Mindy clicks her tongue in a scoff. "What? You think I've never been picked on?"

"No. Right. Of course you have. This world is a cruel place for hot, single men who also happen to be doctors. I should be more sensitive to your plight."

That stops him in his tracks, the grasp he still keeps on her arm halting her as well. "You think I'm hot?"

"Oh my God.  _Seriously_?" There's a grin sweeping up one side of his face. " _That's_  what you're taking away from this?"  

"No. Not entirely. It is nice you're finally acknowledging you think that." The grin has made its way fully across his face, teeth showing and a glint in his eyes. It makes him look boyish and it distracts her from kinda wanting to slap him. 

Under the scrutiny of her scowl, Danny shakes his head, the smile disappearing from his face instantly like a drawing on an Etch-A-Sketch. "No. That's not what I'm taking away from this." 

Shaking off his hold, Mindy takes a few steps back, out of the flow of people. He follows her so they're somewhat out of the way, tucked against the wrought iron railing surrounding the gated steps of a brownstone.  

"Listen." He strokes a hand in his hair. "I'm not saying I know what you're feeling right now. Me getting my ass kicked all of 6th grade because I took dance lessons, or  _still_  having the nickname Little D are two differ-"

" _Little D_? That's adorable, Danny. And you took  _dance_?!" Those two tidbits of information are the best gifts she's gotten all night.

"Shut up," he says, lacking all malice. "The point is - I know what it's like to get picked on. To feel like the butt of a joke. It's shitty and I'm sorry you feel like that's what everyone was doing."

She nods imperceptibly, blinking hard and wishing he wasn't being nice to her. Being angry was better. Now she's starting to feel the real ache of hurt feelings, and that's so much worse.

"If it makes you feel better, Min, I don't think it was intentional." 

"It's not even so much like they're laughing at me." She swallows and is pissed that her voice sounds so small. "More like, I don't know. . . judging me. Pitying me. Like some sad-ass cookbook or exercise machine is going to be just the thing to solve all my problems and stop me from being such a freaking screw up."

"Hey. Why would you think that? You're not a screw up."

She shrugs. "I married you."

"Thanks a lot!"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know." Danny almost smiles before laying a hand lightly on the sleeve of her coat. "So you made one stupid, drunken mistake. Who hasn't?"

"I'm just -- I'm tired of being the unpredictable one who can always be counted on to provide drama."

"I thought you lived for drama," he says cheekily and waggling her arm, trying surprisingly hard to cheer her.

"Yeah,  _sometimes_. Occasionally. But to be honest, it's a lot better watching drama unfold from the cushy sidelines with your gorgeous, successful boyfriend than it is to be in the middle of a crazed, ginger windmill."

"You projecting a little bit from the Christmas party?"

"Maybe."

"Listen, you're fine. So you've gone through a little bit of a rough time. Things will get better, and no amount of microwave cooking or body pillows is going to make it happen any faster. Your friends know that." His fingers run up to cup her elbow. "Instead of thinking about how some crappy gifts made you feel, think about how there's an entire restaurant full of people who care about you enough to show up in the first place."

"They were crappy gifts." She scuffs the bottom of her peep-toe pump against the sidewalk.

"They were. No contest."

"But there were a lot of people there. I guess it does feel pretty good to know that many people care. Even if some of them were there just to settle a weird plumbing vendetta."

"I don't know what that means, but yeah." He's looking at her hopefully. "What do you say? Let's go back and finish the party. I happen to know there's an entire birthday cake comprised of nothing but cinnamon sugar doughnut holes."

"Really? All doughnut holes?" Mindy would kill for any form of dessert right now. Only... "No. No, Danny. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. If I went back it would only be because it's what everyone else wants and because I don't want to be rude." He lifts an eyebrow. " _More_  rude. But it's still my birthday. All I've wanted this entire time was a quiet, drama-free night. And maybe some dessert. Which only seems fair."

"Yeah. Okay." 

She's a little surprised after chasing her all this way he's giving up so easily. "Really?"

"There's a diner I know a few blocks from here on 16th Street," he tilts his head toward that direction. "And they have the best rhubarb pie you've ever eaten. What do you say?"

"I say that no one should ever cook a vegetable into a pie."

"Their pecan is just as great." Danny's eyes twitch in a near-squint. "Or do you have a thing about cooking nuts into a pie?"

"Eh." She shrugs.

"How about just so-so blueberry?"

"Now you're talking."

* * *

"You were right. It wasn't all that great." She pushes the scrapped-clean plate away. 

"Told you you should have gotten the rhubarb. And what are you talking about? You ate two pieces." 

"It may not have been great, but it's still my birthday."

"Fair enough. You want another cup of coffee?" he asks, even while reaching in his back pocket for his wallet.

"Hmm, no thank you." Mindy grabs the edge of her coat and scoots out of the booth. 

The ticket is already laying face down on the laminate tabletop and Danny doesn't bother turning it over to look at the amount before tossing a couple twenties on top of it. She never even picked up the plastic-coated menu stashed between the salt and pepper shakers, but there's no way their dessert and coffee could have cost more than twenty-five bucks, tops. "You need change? I think I've got some smaller bills in my purse."

"Naw," Danny catches their server's eye, an older lady whose name tag identifies her as Rita, and nods.

Damn. Has he always been this slyly generous and she'd never taken note? It seems weird coming from a man who constantly preaches about the value of a dollar and making fiscally responsible choices. Then Mindy remembers their discussion from a few months ago, about being raised by a single mother who worked at least two jobs, and it begins to make a little more sense. 

He shakes his coat on as they step out onto the sidewalk. "Where to now?"

Mindy looks up at him, sure that she's unable to hide her surprise. "Um, I don't know. Hadn't really thought past dessert."

"Wanna get a drink or something? Mediocre pie seems like an anticlimactic end to your birthday." 

"That's true." She nods in agreement, but honestly can't think of anything she wants to do more than take off her bra, put on anything with an elastic waistband, and maybe watch something just boring enough to fall asleep in front of the TV. Even though that is a very sad, lonely sounding end to her evening. "Maybe another time?"

"Oh, okay," he says, Danny looking almost disappointed. She's probably imaging that, but it still makes her feel the need to make an offer.

"I would love to just get in my pajamas and watch TV, to be honest." He nods his understanding. "But I've got stuff to make margaritas... If you want to come over."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. It'd be nice to have some company. Just no judging my taste in television. Or my ratty sweats."

"That's a deal." He nudges her elbow, a small smile on his face, and they start walking in the direction of the Village. 

They're quiet as they stroll, and with every step closer to her apartment, Mindy feels more relaxed. There's a sleepy sort of ease making everything else about this day fade away. 

Danny breaks the silence when they turn the corner onto her street. "Hey. I - um. I wanted to let you know I'm sorry."

She starts to laugh until she looks over and sees the seriousness in his eyes. It makes her oddly nervous. "Okaaay."

"All those things you were saying earlier. About people making you feel like a loser, or that there's something wrong with the way you're living your life? I know there have been at least a few times when I've been a part of that."

Mindy lifts one shoulder up in an almost-shrug and averts her eyes, not knowing what to say. It isn't untrue. But it doesn't feel relevant anymore, the ways both of them have failed at being kind to each other are now just something in the past.

"I'm not making excuses, because the reasons why aren't important, but anything I've said was more about me being on the defensive that it was about you. You're fine just like you are. And if anyone says otherwise or makes you feel like you need to change, screw 'em. Me included."   

There are only a handful of times in Mindy's life where she's been truly dumbstruck. This is one of them. She fidgets, not knowing what to do with her hands or how to begin to form a reply. 

He slows as the approach the stoop of her building, finally stopping to look at her. "I'm sorry. It was stupid to bring all that back up again." 

"No, it's - it's not stupid. It's actually very considerate. Thank you, Danny." He regards her for a moment, the tip of his nose and shell of his ears tinged pink in the cold. It is a generous thing, and she owes him the same. "I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"Oh, come on. You know for what. I've said some pretty awful stuff about you and your divorce. And I should never have said it in the first place, but hearing the gruesome details and just listening to the way you talked about her when we were at that pizza place where you two met..." She shakes her head. "I understand the hurt and the damage. I had no right to say those things. You've gone through enough without me piling on."

Danny takes a deep breath, chest heaving, before slowly releasing it. "Apology accepted. Clean slate?"

"Yeah. Clean slate. You still want to come up?" 

"Hell yeah. I was promised margaritas."

"And margaritas you shall have!" Mindy digs in her purse looking for her keys. Unlocking the security door, he follows her inside. The warmth of the lobby is nice. 

"Oh." He shoves a hand in his coat pocket when they get to the elevator, and pulls something out. "I almost forgot. Here." 

It's a long, slender tube with a crumpled red bow stuck to it. A sad decoration that looks like it was salvaged from some discarded Christmas wrapping paper. Handing it to her he says, "It's probably not that great a gift, but you said your skin gets dry, so..."

Mindy plucks the bow off and - holy shit. It's a tube of La Prairie White Caviar Hand Cream. Three small ounces of Swiss indulgence so expensive Mindy won't even buy it for herself. She did the math once: it's basically sixty bucks an ounce. "Danny. I can't believe you did this."

"Yeah, you're right. It's too practical. Like, who gives people lotion? It's like giving someone toothpaste. It was stupid." He wraps his hand around the container, trying to pull it from her grasp. "I'll take it back and get you a gift card or something." 

"Don't you dare! This is amazing." She tugs it away from him and holds it close to her chest. "I just can't believe you would do something so extravagant. How did you even know this stuff is out there?" 

"I didn't. The lady at Bergdorf's just said it was the best. I don't know what the big deal is over some lotion, but -" He stops talking when she throws her arms around his neck and hugs him quickly. She lets him go almost immediately as the elevator arrives with a dinging announcement.  

Danny's slightly frowning when she reaches around him to press the button to her floor, confusion lining his face deeply. He may not have a clue what a good job he's done, but she does. Mindy nudges his shoulder. "Thank you for everything tonight. For the oddly gelatinous pie, and the best birthday gift. And for turning a day that had so far been comprised entirely of suck into a really nice birthday. Thank you, Danny."

"You're welcome." He's looking back at her with a strange, unreadable intensity before smiling slowly. "That's what friends do."


	6. Do The Right Thing

**Sunday, April 21st, 2013 - Days Married: 111**  

There's a waiting line to get into the church. Since when is there a  _waiting line_  for  _church_? 

"This is a good sign, right? Super exclusive, like getting into a hot nightclub. Just. . in daylight and with uglier clothes." 

She turns, surveying the line of people queuing up behind them. Danny has to shift away to keep the brim of her ridiculous hat from scrapping the side of his face. "High attendance is good, but - no. It's not supposed to be exclusive. That's kind of the opposite of the point."

"Yeah. Right. The point is . . . togetherness." Mindy's voice lilts up like maybe it's a question.

"Well, partly. The Church is the people, not the structure. So congregating and worshiping as the body of Christ is important. Like, 'when two or more gather together,' ya know. But it's more than that. It's about -" Danny turns to find Mindy's eyes widened and mouth slightly open. "What?"

"No. Nothing. You just know a  _lot_  about church."

"Isn't that the point of you bringing me here? To use my knowledge for your own weird personal dating drama?" 

"You are absolutely right." Mindy smiles and nods emphatically. "Please continue. I might be able to use some of this on our next date, so long as Casey checks out."

"Yeah, um..." Danny's lost his train of thought. Something about the point of attending church. He probably shouldn't have agreed to this. The finer points of how this might be a sacrilege are vague, but enough to make him uncomfortable. The line moves as the greeters pick up their pace handing out bulletins.  

"What?"

"Huh?  _What_ , what?" He glances out of the corner of his eye toward her before taking another step closer to the wide, oak doors.

"You're doing that thing you do."

Danny finally turns his full attention back to her. "What thing I do?"

"You know." Mindy gestures with her pristine gloved hand. "Where you get all nervous and edgy. And you keep giving me the side-eye. What's wrong with you?" 

"Nothing's wrong with me." 

"Then are you having a medical emergency or something?"

"No. It's just. . ." Danny looks around before lowering his voice. "Now that we're actually here it feels . . wrong. I shouldn't be helping you pick out a boyfriend." 

Mindy's quiet for a moment longer than she should be and he wonders if she's even listening to him. Finally she takes a sharp breath and replies. "Danny, are you jealous?" 

" _What_? No!" He takes the paper handed to him by the tall young woman to the left side of the entrance, and nods politely when she wishes him good morning. "This is all morally ambiguous. I don't know exactly how, but coming to  _church_  to help you pick up a minster while we're still married has got to be a sin." 

"Oh my God, Danny! Could you say that any louder?"

" _Could you not take the Lord's name in vain while we're in here?!_ " he whispers harshly.

"I don't know why you're the one who has a problem with this since  _you're_  the one who can't seem to be bothered to get the _you know what_." 

They slide onto the pew, the parishioners grumbling about Mindy's hat finally encouraging her to remove the damn thing. It gives Danny time to think of a retort. "I  _am_  working the annulment." He whispers the words near her ear so she has no grounds to complain. "It's just very different from the last one. And I'm trying to avoid having to get an attorney." 

"Okay, it's different. But it should be easier, right? So what's the problem?"

"I think it's going to be just as simple as filing joint paperwork and submitting it for a judge to sign. No need for a hearing. And, since we're only married civilly and not in the eyes of the Church, that makes it easier. Which is good because, believe me, you do  _not_  want to have to go through all that." Danny shudders at the memory. The entire process of ending his marriage was awful, but all the tribunals and meetings with Father Francis, which left no dirty detail unaired, were especially humiliating. "But no one can give me a straight answer if one of us has to be primary on the paperwork, basically making it where one of us is at fault-"

"Which would clearly be you." She smooths her skirt across her lap.

"Why would  _I_  be the one at fault?"

"Because you're the one who printed out the application and filled it out. Plus, you're the one who misunderstood my suggestion in the first place. If in five years we end up dead at the other's hand, then I will take full credit. That will be on me."

"Okay. That's fair. I've just gotta get some more information." Danny rushes to say over the rising organ music. "And maybe hire a process server, I don't know. But I told you I'd handle it and I will."

Just as quickly as the organ began, it switches to some weird electronic music and Mindy's conquest begins what is maybe the most sacrilegious sermon Danny's ever heard. Though he does make an okay point about God's endless grace and love. 

He can't help noticing the way her lips part slightly, eyes dark, before Mindy leans over to speak to him. "Thank you, Danny. Handle it. Because it's probably a deal breaker, and I am totally going to nail Pastor Casey."

**Tuesday, April 23rd, 2013 - Days Married: 113**

It's not like he thought spending the day in a prison would be great, but as Morgan pushes him back, blocking him from the chaos erupting, Danny thinks this is going worse than he would have imagined. 

There are alarms starting to blare, the sounds of metal against metal and locks turning over. With basically a giant standing in front of him, arms slung wide, he can only guess at what's happening and can see none of it. Which is fine, maybe even preferable. 

Until he hears a particularly pitched scream. 

Danny darts around Morgan just in time to see a large woman with a fist-full of long black hair and the biggest pair of sheers he's ever seen. He can't see her face, but the glint of sharp blades in proximity to Mindy makes his stomach turn over. It takes his feet a moment to catch up with his brain, his hands shaking with fear, before lunging into the fray. He has to. Because if Danny is scared simply as a witness, then Mindy must be terrified.  

* * *

Mindy flinches when the cool ointment connects with her broken skin. "Hold still." Danny grabs her chin, thumb resting just under her bottom lip, to keep her steady. 

"I can't believe I did this," she says softly. Her eyes are glassy and irritated, the tears she's already shed leaving red spiderwebs around the deep brown of her irises.

Danny's gaze moves from her eyes back to the cut on her forehead. "I think it took everyone else by surprise, too." She sniffles and nods, the cotton swab slipping and trailing goo down to her eyebrow. He grips her chin tighter. 

He's finishing the the antiseptic and is ready to start with the butterfly bandages when he feels the first drop hit the back of his hand. She's blinking hard to unsuccessfully keep more tears from falling. 

Mindy turns her head, gazing down at the sterile-looking vinyl tile floor, and Danny uncurls his fingers from her chin. Gently, he cups her cheek and pushes her face back until she has no choice but to look at him again. "I'm just giving you a hard time. Trying to make a joke, lighten the mood. You know this isn't your fault."

She huffs what he thinks she means to be a laugh, but it's too watery to be anything other than kind of heartbreaking. "This is  _totally_  my fault, Danny. How could it be anyone's fault but mine?"

"Okay, it is mostly your fault. But you were just trying to do a nice thing."

"A nice thing that started a  _prison riot_." Two more hot tears fall to his skin and roll slowly down his forearm. 

"A now contained prison riot. One that only started because you were trying to be a generous person. Misguided, but generous. And no one was hurt." Mindy clicks her tongue in exasperation. "Right. No one except for you. And Morgan. Though stepping in the line of pepper spray is mostly on him." 

"Yeah," she sniffles. "You'd think someone with his criminal record and experience with time on the inside he'd have quicker reflexes." 

Danny quirks a smile and grabs the package of adhesive strips. They stay in silence while he administers to the long cut on her forehead, Mindy only deciding to start speaking again the moment he tries to patch up the corner of her mouth. It would irritate him if her hushed words didn't sink in his stomach like a stone. "It was kinda scary, huh?"

His fingers falter briefly where they're poised, knuckles resting against her face to give him a steadier hand. Mindy's looking at him like she wants him to make light of the situation, to defuse the fear he can see latent in the back of her eyes. Honestly he'd like to, he would, only it feels too serious to lie about. "I was terrified."

"You were?" A smile tugs at the undamaged corner of her mouth, and it's not one of teasing, but one of relief. Like so many other emotions, there's a camaraderie in fear. 

"Of course I was." The image of Mindy on her knees, that wall of a woman standing beside her with a weapon in her hand, flashes for the millionth time unbidden through Danny's head. He's so fucking grateful there are only two minor cuts to attend to. Shallow wounds will heal and hair can grow back. 

His hands fall away from her face, unable to keep the contact without being afraid she'll feel the tremor that's back in his hand. They can commiserate about this, sure. It's just that the full truth, the one where even though she's okay it will keep him from sleeping tonight, would do her more harm than good. So he keeps it truthful and yet still light, surface. No need to amplify what she's already feeling. "We were in lock down in the middle of a freakin' prison riot. How can that be anything but scary?"

"Right?! It's going to make a really good story, though." Instantly her mood has shifted, a brightness back to her eyes that has nothing to do with tears. 

"You're going to leave out the part where it was kinda your fault when you retell this, aren't you?"

"Duh. It would be more embarrassing than badass if I left that part in." Danny stretches the final bandage by her mouth, closing her broken skin. "Ouch."

"Sorry." He swipes away the excess ointment with his thumb. The fingers of his left hand are aligned with her jaw, and the skin under his touch is so smooth, so warm. So alive. Mindy's lips are pursed, pink and pretty, and he stares at them a moment, a question nagging at his brain he can't seem to grab hold of. All the adrenaline has worn off and he's feeling drugged and sentimental and not at all like himself. She licks her lips and he remembers suddenly what he was doing, and that his job is done. 

Danny pulls away, the stool he's sitting on rolling back when he does. Mindy's regarding him a little funnily, and it makes him feel like he's missed something, his head muddled. Then he remembers what he was going to ask. "You said your brother Rishi's staying with you for spring break?" 

"Yeah. He's sleeping on my couch and trying to pretend it's Mexico. I'm taking him for burritos tonight for a more authentic simulation. Why?" 

"You had mentioned it." Danny shrugs, playing it off. "Couldn't remember if it was this week or the next."

It's another thing today he can be grateful for. He doesn't want her to be alone tonight.   


	7. How To Succeed In Fraud Without Really Trying

**Friday, May 24th, 2013 - Days Married: 144**  

"Are you nervous?" Her eyebrows are pulled together seriously, but Mindy's smiling.

He disengages his death grip from the armrest one finger at a time. "No."

"That's good. Because it seems like a well-educated man, a  _doctor_  even, who understands odds and deals with split second life and death decisions on a regular basis, would know that statistically flying is the safest form of travel." Danny nods his agreement to every word she says and tries to ignore how the recycled air is kind of nauseating. 

"It's just that you  _look_  nervous. My mistake." Mindy goes back to the magazine propped on her tray table (which should be up and secured) and slides through the glossy pages slowly. 

Once the ascension is over, his ears finished popping uncomfortably, the seat belt sign unlit, and they're gliding smoothly along at thirty thousand feet, he feels perfectly relaxed. He's engrossed in his book when the drink cart comes along. They split a can of Coke, and once the flight attendant has moved to the next row Danny gives Mindy his shortbread cookie and she offers him some of her tiny pretzels in exchange. 

He's midway through a paragraph when she turns toward him, pulling a knee up in the seat. She doesn't have to make any more overtures than that for him to know to replace the bookmark and give her his full attention.

"So why don't you like flying?"

"It's not that I don't like it," he says, knowing it's no kind of explanation. 

"Then what is it?"

Danny's never been one to self-analyze, so it takes him a minute to articulate something more than,  _it makes me uncomfortable_. Waiting patiently, she sips her drink, the few rapidly-melting cylinders of ice in the cup clinking against her teeth.

"Um, I guess I don't love that once you're on board and the plane starts taxiing, that's it. There are no other options. You're stuck."

"Like claustrophobia or something?"

"No. Or - not entirely. It's just being at someone else's mercy until we touch down and those doors open again. No matter what happens, there's nothing I can do about it."

"So it's about control."

Hearing it phrased so frankly makes it sound a little crazy, but yeah; it's completely about losing control. Danny shrugs and nods. "Yeah, I guess. Ultimately. I know it's ridiculous to think anyone has control over their own fate or whatever, but there's still this illusion that we all do. I don't know. There's always this moment when I fly when I realize how little control I have over anything. It makes me feel. . ." He struggles to name it.

"Scared?" she offers, regarding him in that soft way she does every once in a while when she's truly invested and listening.

"No, not that exactly. Small. Insignificant. Like no matter what, my life is completely in someone else's hands." He cuts his eyes, looking at her under the veil of his lashes. "That sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"No, I get it." Mindy lays a hand light on his arm. "It's kind of exciting though, isn't it? Surrendering. It's like falling in love. It's terrifying and exhilarating, and there comes a point where there's nothing you can do about it. You have to trust that the other person isn't going to crash and burn with your heart. That's part of the fun of it."

"Describing love that way doesn't actually make it sound fun either. Sounds more like a war zone."

She tuts at him. "You're just saying that because you're jaded and need a girlfriend."

"Hey. I see people."

"Sure you do," she says disbelievingly, and he knows it's pointless to insist any further. "And you're not wrong. Love is totally a war zone. It's all just - friendly fire everywhere, dark-secret landmines, and all kinds of collateral damage."

"That does actually sound very accurate, yes."

"Mmm."

"Is that why you're thinking about seeing Josh while we're out here?" Danny doesn't like that even a little bit. That scumbag doesn't deserve a moment of her time. He's a shithead for even calling her in the first place. Like Josh clearing his conscience is going to do anything but hurt Mindy. 

"Maybe. It was all very abrupt. Within the span of an hour I was happy and in love - or almost maybe  _close_  to being in love anyway - and then it was done. Until this morning, the last time I spoke to him was at the Christmas party. He never even asked for his stuff back." She's plucking at the fabric of his sleeve absently. "Casey raised some good points about it. Closure might be good. I can muster armistice for half an hour."

"I don't like it." Danny should keep his damn mouth shut. It isn't any of his business. Although it feels like it is if the end result is her getting hurt again.

Mindy snorts a laugh. "Do you not now? Well buddy, your opinion is noted. Thank you. But you don't really have a say."

"I didn't suggest I did."

"True."

"So you're going to do it then?"

She takes a deep breath and turns her head to peer out the window for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Yeah. I think I am. So go ahead. Out with it. Tell me all the reasons you think that's stupid."

Danny pushes his bottom lip up in an almost-frown, and shakes his head. "No. You know what's best for you. Doesn't matter if I don't like it. I won't try and change your mind."

"Oh." Her brow is pulled tight in surprise and confusion. "Okay."

Mindy shifts facing forward again, leg bending back to the floor, and he picks up his Koontz novel. He waits a good long time before finishing his thought. It's a bit overly dramatic, in a way that's a lot like the woman seated next to him. "Doesn't mean I'm not going with you."

"Like hell you are." Without even looking up from the page, he can feel her eyes flash from the seat-back TV screen to him. "Why would you even want to go with me?"

"I didn't say I wanted to. I said that I  _was_." Slowly he looks up to find her frowning so severely he can't stop the smile that twitches at his mouth. "What? You think I'm going to let you go into a war zone by yourself? Now who's the one talking crazy?"

* * *

There are lines to check in. Apparently every single person attending the conference arrived at the hotel at the same time. Jeremy and Morgan both chose the faster moving line, and by the time Mindy rolls her giant suitcase up to the desk in front of him, Danny thinks he spies the two other men headed toward the resort's bar. 

"Checking in. It will be under Shulman & Associates."

"What's your name, ma'am?" 

"Dr. Mindy Lahiri."

The clerk, whose name tag reads Dillon, keys in a few things, his typing speed and frown accelerating at the same rate. "Um."

Mindy's tapping a single, manicured nail on the rough-hewn wood counter, already antsy from having to wait nearly half an hour. "Is there a problem?"

"I - uh. There appears to be, yes. There's no record of a reservation under your name."

Danny steps up next to Mindy, shifting his bag, and leans an elbow against the counter. "The other two people in our party have already checked in. There are no other rooms listed under Shulman & Associates?"

"Just one." The young man shrugs. The other one must be his. Their trip has been booked for months. How can the hotel have lost just her reservation and no one else's? "I'm guessing it's yours, sir. A Queen Suite for Dr. and Dr. Castellano?" 

Danny's jaw clenches hard, locking, and he can feel his face starting to redden. Catching the look, Dillon begins to ramble somewhat frantically. "I'm very sorry. Let me get our manager. I promise we'll do everything we can to straighten this out." 

He's about to tell him there's no need, clearly  _Mrs_. Dr. Castellano and her fucked up sense of humor is the culprit. He's about to say just that when the back of Mindy's hand smacks his chest hard. 

"I cannot believe you did this. What? Did you think it would be funny?" She lowers her voice from the worked-up pitch. " _What if Morgan or Jeremy heard this? Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to have to explain?_ I am NOT sharing a room with you."

"You think  _I_  did thi-"

"What could possibly be so embarrassing?" The sudden clap of Jeremy's hand on Danny's shoulder makes him flinch.

"Uhh." Danny stumbles, looking to Mindy for any help at all. Her eyes are wide and hold nothing but mild panic within them. "Nothing. Just. Tiny mix up. I thought you were getting a drink."

"Just exploring the place," Jeremy turns his attention to address the clerk. "This is a lovely facility." 

"Thanks." Dillon says, looking just as confounded as Danny feels. 

"So. You two lovebirds find your little surprise?" He's squeezing both Danny and Mindy's shoulders, towering between them.

"What the hell have you been telling people, Danny?" Mindy growls at him through clenched teeth.

"Nothing!" He turns his attention back to their partner. "Why did you do this? Or - maybe more importantly - how the  _hell_  did you find out?"

"Hard to keep a budding love affair like yours secret for long." Turning his attention away again, Jeremy addresses the young man. "They'll need two key cards, please."

"Wait. I still need my own room." 

"And ruin your belated honeymoon? That would be a shame." Danny's fingers twitch to clench into a fist at the saccharine sound of Jeremy's voice. 

"I'm sorry, Dr. Lahiri. There are no other rooms available. We've been booked solid for this conference since the end of April." Now that Jeremy has opened his big mouth, Dillon looks much more dismissive and less inclined to be helpful. 

"You heard the man. All booked." Jeremy takes the key cards, and before either of them can protest further, he ushers them away. The two middle-aged women next in line sigh with relief as they go.

They sit down in a cluster of deep, perfectly worn, brown leather chairs surrounding the stacked-stone fireplace in the lobby. Danny races to think of the least embarrassing way to tell the story, to make it clear it's not how he's interpreting it. And he's weighing how much he's willing to offer for Jeremy's silence. 

Before he can decide where to start, Mindy beats him to the punch. "This isn't what it looks like."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you think it looks like. But I can assure you I don't want to know what it actually is." His tone has changed completely, Jeremy dropping the sweetness. 

"Why are you doing this, man?" Danny asks, curiosity getting the better of him trying to be cool. "And how do you know?"

"I'm the managing financial partner." He's looking at them like this should explain everything. He sighs when he's met with nothing but blank stares. "Our accountants send me any payroll changes with our quarterly tax statements."

Danny still doesn't get it, but the way a fierce blush is rising on the apples of Mindy's cheeks, he thinks she does. "What did you do?" he asks her perhaps a bit too forcefully. She shrugs and won't meet his gaze.

"She did what I'm assuming would, in a court of law, be considered tax fraud."

"Mindy!"

" _What_?! It's not fraud! Legally we're married. And if you hadn't already spent six months 'working on' the annulment I wouldn't have done it. Do you have any idea how many tax breaks there are for married people? My paycheck is like a thousand dollars more a month now."

"It hasn't been six months," he grumbles. It's inane, yet it's all Danny can find to say. "I told you I'm working on it, and I am. I just found out last week I'm going to have to get Judge Markaway's signature, since she was our witness. So... I  _am_  working on it. And if you think I'm doing such a terrible job at it, why don't you do it yourself?"

" _Janet_ Markaway? Your _patient_?" Jeremy waves a hand in dismissal when Danny opens his mouth to confirm the question. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Whatever  _this_  is," he makes a face at them, "I want to maintain as much plausible deniability as possible in case I'm called to testify. I refuse to be deported because of your shenanigans."

He stands to walk away, smoothing his dark, knit sweater. Mindy grabs his sleeve before he can go. "Wait. If you at least get that it isn't real, why are you doing this?"

"Same as you. Money. You two sharing a room is saving the practice nearly $1,500.00. If you need a better reason than that, you may think of it as punishment for defrauding the United States federal government. I'm choosing to think of it as the first contribution to a legal fund we hopefully will never have to use." 

Mindy huffs and falls back dramatically in the chair. "I hate you more than a little bit right now. Just so you know."

"There was never a doubt. I promise you'll be grateful if we have to retain a tax attorney." He pats her hand gently before smiling bawdily. "Have fun settling in, you two. See you at the dinner tonight." 

It takes a few minutes sitting in complete silence for Danny to sort through everything that just happened. Perhaps shockingly, he comes to the conclusion that it could be a lot worse. At least  _he's_  not committing tax fraud. If that's even what Mindy's doing. She isn't wrong that currently in the eyes of the law they are married, neither of them going into it with the intention to defraud anyone. It also doesn't sound like anyone other than Jeremy and their accountants even know what's going on. And none of them want any of the embarrassing details. So basically the only thing left as a concern is them sharing a room. 

Danny looks over at his friend. The woman who is still technically his wife. Mindy's eyes are closed and she's pushing and tugging on the long handle of her suitcase, methodically rolling it back and forth in front of her. She's probably very messy. Clearly there will be stuff strewn everywhere since she packed for a month-long journey and not a long weekend. But he knows from the doctors lounge that she only snores occasionally, and even then it isn't very loud. If bunking together is the most dire thing to come of all this, Danny thinks maybe they're actually coming out easy.

"Hey. Min--"

"Don't say it. I know that it was stupid. I didn't realize I was going to have to fill out all new W-4 forms. I'll change it back as soon as we get home."

"That's not what I was going to say."

"Oh." She opens her eyes and sits up a little straighter.

"I'm going to put my luggage in my - in  _our_  room." He stands, picking up his small leather case. "And then I'm going to the bar and ordering a very large drink. Wanna come?"

"Yes!" She nods enthusiastically. He's taken the suitcase handle from her grasp and is rolling it toward the bank of elevators when she catches up with him. Mindy loops her arm through his. "You're a very understanding man sometimes, Danny. If I had to accidentally drunk-marry someone, I'm glad it was you."

"I'm going to remind you you said that."

"I'm sure you will. Right now I don't even care."


	8. Jericho

**Friday, May 24th, 2013 - Days Married: 144**

Mindy's leaning against the wall, high heels in hand, while Danny unlocks their door. Her body feels heavy and relaxed, the buzz from the wine after dinner wearing off, leaving her sleepy. The door clicks open and he holds it and steps aside to allow her in first. 

Earlier, when they dropped off their luggage and she changed into her cocktail dress, she didn't really take the time to look around the suite. It's warm and feels more homey than any other hotel she's stayed in. The room is spacious, with wide-plank hardwood floors and a massive area rug woven in rich colors. There's a large leather chair in the corner by the windows that looks exactly like the ones in the lobby, except this one has a Navajo blanket folded and thrown across the back. 

She stops just inside the door, pausing by the highboy where the TV is placed, the comfortable looking queen sized bed looming directly in front of her. Mindy isn't entirely sure why that stops her, but she thinks she's waiting for things to get weird. Danny's been too cool about all of this so far, and it's past time for the other shoe to drop. 

Without paying any attention to her stasis, Danny goes about his business, slipping the tie from around his neck and grabbing a neatly folded stack of clothes from his suitcase in the closet. "You mind if I take the bathroom first?"

"No." She shakes her head. "It's fine." 

It isn't until the bathroom door latches that she takes a deep breath and her feet find their way again. Shit, maybe she's the one being weird. It's just Danny; there's nothing to be uncomfortable about. How many nights have they both ended up asleep on the couch in the doctors' lounge?

By the time she's grabbed shorts and a T-shirt from her bag and is finishing taking off her jewelry, Danny's already done in the bathroom. He smells like toothpaste and is wearing a thin white undershirt and boxers. Mindy blinks hard and averts her eyes from his state of undress. It isn't indecent. It is however  _very_  different from the doctors' lounge comparison she'd been equating this too. 

Slipping into the bathroom, she locks the door and presses her back into it. God, this is ridiculous. She's shared a bed with her other best friends a million times. There's not reason why this is any different. Just as that thought begins to make her feel better, her brain unhelpfully provides the detail that none of her other best friends look like that in a T-shirt. Mindy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Maybe the aftereffect of the wine is making her a little nuts. She should drink some water. 

She slurps a few handfuls from the tap then brushes her teeth. Mindy twists her hair back in a low ponytail, digs in her toiletry bag for her glasses and contact lens case and the pack of makeup removal wipes. Contorting, she tugs the zipper down at the back of her dress and starts to work on the tiny beaded clasp behind her, level with the plane of her shoulders. Of course it can't be as easy as a hook and eye. There's an actual closure, a decorative detail with zero functionality and so small even running the pad of her thumb over both sides Mindy cannot tell where the lever to release the clasp is. 

It's the first time she's worn it, and in hindsight Danny did have to secure it for her before they went for a drink. She should have seen this coming. Stubbornly she tries for another few minutes to get it undone. Until the blood has drained uncomfortably from her arms, making her hands tingle like they're on pins and needles, before giving up and opening the bathroom door. 

Apparently he's claimed the far side of the bed, the one nearest the windows. 

"Danny. I can't get this clasp." Luckily that's all she has to say. He lays his book down open-faced on the bed and takes off his reading glasses, getting up without further prompting and coming to her. 

"This thing is impossible," he says, fingers fumbling. She sweeps her tied-back hair out of his way. "Why would anybody design something like this?"

"Search me. If you weren't here I'd have to cut myself out of it. Which would be a crime; this is Escada."

"You know that means nothing to me, right?"

Mindy tucks her chin down so he has a better angle. "Yes. That does not, however, diminish how important it is."

"If you say so." 

There's just enough height difference where she can see his brow pulled in concentration reflected in the mirror. He looks so serious, focused, and she can imagine him doing this for his first wife. That would have been different though, and Mindy curses herself for thinking all the ways how.  

Closing her eyes tight, she pushes the image away of him kissing the spot at the base of her neck - of  _Christina's_  neck - when he finally meets with success. Mindy's able to banish that thought, but it doesn't make things much better. Not entirely. With her eyes closed she's more aware of the way the tips of his fingers are warm every time they brush her skin; of the way every time he exhales a heavy, frustrated breath it washes all the way down her exposed back. Until now she'd forgotten the zipper was already pulled down to the base of her spine.

"Almost got it?" Her voice is hoarse. 

" _Allllmost."_  He sucks in a sharp breath. "There." As quickly as it's undone, Danny drapes his hands over her shoulders, keeping the dress from slipping off her. His thumbs are just barely brushing the nape of her neck.

"Thank you." She catches his eyes in the mirror, finding him smiling softly at her. He has a nice smile. 

Slowly he slides his hands down, drawing them together and with them the material of the dress until he has both sides pinched between her shoulder blades. "You may wanna..."

"Right!" Mindy shakes her head, breaking out of whatever strange reverie she was in, and reaches back to take hold of the dress from him. 

Danny pads out of the bathroom, calling to her as the door closes. "You should really get a tailor to change out that clasp. I'm not always going to be here to release you from your couture prison."

She jerks the door back open, peeking just her head around it. "Oh my God, Danny! Did you just use couture correctly in a sentence?" 

"At some point even I am susceptible to osmosis." He grins, hooking his reading glasses back around his neck.

"You should have never let me know you're teachable," she says, closing the door hard before he can say another word.

Mindy plucks out her contacts and submerges them in solution, then begins vigorously scrubbing off her makeup. When she swipes at her mouth she realizes she's still smiling. That man. For all his grumbling, he's always listening. It's a wonderful way to be, and he's a fool if he thinks she's not going to use it against him. One day, whether he likes it or not, he'll know his Choo's from his Louboutin's. 

Within five minutes she's changed and ready for bed. She opens the door to find Danny sound asleep, book still upright in his hands. Mindy tiptoes to hang up her dress and grab her cell phone from her clutch. 

She really meant to call Casey earlier. It's only ten o'clock in New York, but she doesn't want to have to go out in the hallway in her pajamas to have a conversation. And honestly, she doesn't feel much like talking now anyway. Sitting down in the chair across from the bed, the leather cool on the backs of her legs, she types out a text:  _Arrived safely._ _Having a fantastic time in Santa Fe._ _The hotel is gorgeous and the welcome dinner was great. So far this conference is nicer than my last vacation!_ _ <3_

Mindy stares at her phone, thumb hovering over the send button. Finally she hits backspace until all the words are gone and starts again:  _Arrived safely. So far the conference is nice. Hope your day was good and you made headway on your sermon. Have sweet dreams about me! <3  _

She taps her phone on her knee, knowing he'll reply quickly. It's less than two minutes.  _Sermon's finished a day early. Boom! Day was fine, but my night would be a lot better if you were here. Glad you're having a nice time. And you know I always have sweet dreams when I'm dreaming about you, girl._

It's cheesy and also completely earnest, so she sends him a kissy-face emoji back. She starts to set an alarm on her phone, the time difference guaranteed to mess up her internal clock. Looking up at the sound of a snuffling snore, Mindy realizes there's no need. No way has Danny not already set an alarm. Or, more likely, asked for an old fashioned wake-up call from the front desk. 

Working her way around the room, Mindy grabs a bottle of water from the tray sitting on the table next to the one-serving coffee pot, then shuts off the overhead light. Only the dim yellow light from the bedside tables are left.

While she was preoccupied the book has fallen from Danny's hands. It's resting on his lap, open, the pages fanned out and his place lost. She slowly picks it up and tucks the bookmark back at random and sets it aside, then clicks off his lamp. 

** Saturday, May 25th, 2013 - Days Married: 145**

"You sure you got enough room?"

"Yeah. I'm good, thanks." Mindy goes back to that pesky hangnail with the emery board, careful to do minimal damage to her manicure. She shifts a little on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. All day spent in a straight-back chair listening to presentation after presentation has left her body sore and overly tired. 

After several moments she can still feel his gaze on her. Looking up she finds Danny's staring at her over his readers, the length of his body teetering as close to the edge of the bed as possible without going over. 

"Oh. Sorry." Using her arm, she sweeps the collection of things accumulated on the bedspread into a pile on her side. The bed shakes a little as he shimmies back toward the middle. 

"Do you seriously need all of that stuff?"

"Clearly. Or else I wouldn't have it, would I?" 

"Well, you don't need these." Danny filches a few Hersey Kisses from her pile and quickly unwraps and pops one into his mouth. 

"You don't have to steal them. I have a whole bag. And now you'll have to brush your teeth again, so-" Mindy sticks out her tongue at him to punctuate the sentence. 

He mutters around the melting chocolate, "'s totally worth it."

Mindy deposits the nail file along with the two magazines she bought downstairs after breakfast onto the nightstand, and turns back to the array in front of her. Next she unscrews the jar of body butter and scoops out a generous amount. Rubbing it between her palms first, warming it, she smooths it over her skin. Starting with her legs and arms, then the heels and across the tops of her feet. 

Standing, she straightens the covers and picks up the rest of the chocolates. Mindy's about to dump these on the nightstand too, but sticks her hand across the bed in Danny's direction first. He plucks two more off her palm with a silent grin. 

There. It's not so bad. Only a few essential things left cluttering the bed, and she'll get to those soon enough. Now the table is a mess, but that's not common area so she isn't going to worry about that. She slips into the bathroom to pee one more time, then washes her hands and brushes her teeth. 

"Hey, will you grab the pillbox from my kit on the counter?" Danny asks, her hand still on the bathroom light switch.

It's takes her only a moment rummaging through the compact leather case to find it, a long and narrow blue plastic container with the days of the week on it. With her thumbnail she pops open the lid of the one at the end with an S for Saturday on it and pours the three pills of differing sizes into her hand. She shuts off the light and walks back into the bedroom. 

"Here." 

Danny looks confused momentarily before understanding and cupping his hand beneath her fist. Without him having to ask, she hands him her still nearly full bottle of water as she sits cross-legged on top of the covers again, her back resting against the headboard. 

"Thanks," he says, passing the water back to her. 

The adhesive sealing the pack of makeup removal wipes opens with a shriek. Mindy takes off her glasses and pulls a single towelette out and begins vigorously scrubbing her face. Maybe a little too vigorously. It shouldn't bother her. There's no reason it should bother her. But he should have told her, shouldn't he? Shit, what if she's his emergency contact? What if--

"Oh my God! Stop trying to scrub your epidermis off and just ask me! I know you looked."

Mindy angrily flops toward him. " _Lisinopril?_  Why the hell are you taking blood pressure medication, Danny? And why didn't you tell me?" she spits the words, maybe a little more upset than she should be.

"I didn't tell you because it never occurred to me you would care." He shrugs. "I'm surprised you're so upset about this. It's not a big deal."

"It  _is_  a big deal. Especially when it comes to you of all people." She swipes the cloth roughly over her eyes.

His brow knits and he twists to face her more. "Why  _especially me_  of all people?"

"Are you kidding? You're the healthiest person I know. You work out six times a week and voluntarily eat bran. Your BP should be perfect."

"Yeah. Except you're a doctor, Min. You know that's not the way it always works. On paper it should be perfect, but that's not taking heredity into account. Hypertension runs on both sides of my family. I lost three of my grandparents to heart disease. It's something I've had to watch since before I went into med school. I've been on medication for it since I was 28. I'll always be on it."

"Oh." For a long time that's all she can say, so many thoughts crowding in, making it where none actually reach her mouth. There are so many things she wants to ask him, chief among them a simple: Y _ou'd tell me if you weren't okay, right_? Yet all she can manage is, "Aren't you worried about long-term side effects?"

"Not as worried as I am about having a stroke by the time I'm 40."

Mindy nods, swallowing hard.

"Honestly, I'm surprised that's what you even asked me about. I thought you were going to have more questions about the Cialis for daily use in there."

"Whatever!" She wads up the used wipe and throws it at his face. It lands crookedly across the bridge of his nose. "The other two were a B-12 and a multivitamin."

He pulls the cloth off his face and smirks at her. "Just checking to see if you're paying attention." 

* * *

There's an eerie green glow from the bedside clock, and Mindy can't bring herself to look at it. The last time she checked it was nearly two, and that had to have been at least an hour ago. Tomorrow's going to suck. Driving out to see Josh is going to be bad enough, she doesn't want to be brain dead from lack of sleep and with bags bigger than her carry-on under her eyes added to that. 

Still. Mindy can't sleep. She isn't sure what she needs exactly, just that she's needy. Closing her eyes tightly, she rolls over again toward the window. There's a groove in the shape of her body in the mattress and no position is comfortable anymore.

_Not as worried as I am about having a stroke at 40._

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Why can't she stop thinking about this? Mindy opens her eyes again, the silhouette of Danny's face in relief from the sliver of light peeking around the drapes. It's unkind of her sure, but she's never going to get to sleep if she doesn't hear him say it at least one more time.

Snaking her left hand up from where it's resting under the covers, Mindy pushes on his bicep hard before quickly curling her hand back toward her cheek. Danny wakes up with a startle, his breath catching. 

"Mindy?" His voice is cracked and a little panic-y and she should feel bad. Instead she's washed with relief that he's awake and she isn't alone in the dark anymore.

She makes a good show of it, burrowing a little and muddling her words. "Hmm. Wha's wrong?"

"Nothing." He blinks hard and licks his lips. "Nothing. Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

Reaching out with her right hand, she rests her fingers across his where his hand lays on the blanket. "Promise me you're okay?"

Already tipping over into sleep again, he gives his fingers a little flex, two of his fingers looping around hers. "'m fine. It was probably just a bad dream."

It still takes a little while, their fingers still hooked and the sound of Danny's snoring keeping her company, until finally she sleeps. 

** Sunday, May 26th, 2013 - Days Married: 146**

The nightly routine takes a little longer tonight, Mindy packing the things she won't need in the morning after she uses them. In the time it takes her to go through and put everything away, Danny has packed, finished reading his book, and is now yawning endlessly while toggling between ESPN and some old black and white movie on cable every time Sports Center goes to commercial. 

The last three days have been somewhat exhausting, and yet there's a part of her that's sad to already be going home. She sticks a finger in the tiny canister of lip balm and spreads it evenly on her mouth. She should put it and her hand cream away too, but Mindy's too tired to walk even the few steps back to her toiletry bag. Only getting three hours sleep last night was the worst. 

She pulls back the covers and clicks off her lamp, leaving only the flickering light of the TV, and crawls into bed. Danny yawns again and she can't help reflexively doing the same. "Ugh, you've gotta stop doing that," she mutters around her hand.

"Sorry."

Mindy's entranced with the TV and a young Clark Gable, distractedly squeezing the tube of white caviar hand cream Danny gave her for her birthday. It isn't until she starts rubbing it in that she realizes she's got WAY too much. "Shoot." Too late to try and get some of it back in the tube. "Uhh..."

"What is it?"

"I got too much." Mindy's holding her hands up like she's just scrubbed in for surgery.

"Just," Danny waves his hand toward her body. "Put it someplace else."

"I already put lotion on. Plus this is  _hand cream_. The good stuff you got me. I don't want to waste it. You think there's any way I could scrape it back into the bottle?"

"Oh, for God's sake." Reaching out with both hands to envelope hers, Danny roughly rubs first her left hand and then her right in between his until all the excess has been absorbed. "There. Problem solved."

"Hm, yeah." Surprisingly effective. And now her hands are nice and warm too. "Thanks. Except now you're lopsided. You can't just moisturize your palms. Here." Without waiting for permission, she dabs a small dot of cream on the back of each of his hands.

"Was that really necessary?" He's looking at her a little bit like she just forced him to put on lipstick.

"Yes, actually, it is completely necessary. You'll thank me. Oh, and don't forget to work it into your knuckles and your nail beds."

"Yeah, I'm not going to do that."

Mindy half shrugs and scoots down until the covers are up to her chin and her head is perfectly pillowed. Her eyes are already having trouble staying open when Danny starts speaking again.

"So how'd your phone call with Jesus Christ Superstar go earlier? Was he in a very  _chill_  place about your ex having a nasty coke habit?"

"Okay, that's kind of rude." She turns a little to nuzzle the left side of her face in the pillow. "But yes, he was understanding in a very Christian and zen-like way--"

"You can't really be both of those things--" 

She doesn't stop to allow him to correct her. "That's one thing I can say for him, Casey is the most evolved and secure man I've ever dated."

"You tell him about our sleeping arrangements?"

She snorts with a laugh. "Are you crazy? No way, buddy. And I'm not going to. And you better not say anything either."

"Why not? If he's  _Mr. Evolved and Secure_?"

"Because one of two things will happen, both of them bad."

"And they are?"

"He'll be jealous and then it will become a thing. I'll have to lie about why it happened and assure him it was a mix up with the hotel and not Jeremy's doing because of -  _you know_. Casey's very understanding. He'll probably be cool and act okay with it, but then he'll be weird every time I say anything about you. It would be horrible. Plus if I had to choose, I will always pick a lie of omission to one that is bold faced. 

"It's good to know you have a very clear set of moral guidelines. And the other thing?"

"Mm, even worse, he won't be jealous at all. And then I'll have to break up with him."

"Ha! You're -" Danny flops over so he's facing her and scrubs a hand down his face. "I don't understand women. You're saying if he gets jealous he's being unreasonable, but if he's actually mature about it then it's a  _breakup-able offense_? You get why that's insane, right?"

"No, no. I don't think so. What's insane is if a guy is perfectly cool and unruffled about his girlfriend spending three nights snuggled up in bed with her super good looking, single, best friend. Being supportive about seeing Josh is one thing. But this? If he honestly didn't have a problem with this then - I don't know. He would have to be an android. Or a cyborg. I don't really know the difference. One of the two."

Danny cuts into her rambling train of thought, his voice quiet. "I'm your best friend?" 

"What?"

"You just said your super good looking, single,  _best friend_. I'm your best friend?"

"Well . . yeah. Duh. You knew that. I've explained to you that it's a tier."

"Yeah, no. I know that. Just - I'm on it? That tier?"

"Of course. Although maybe you should have a tier of your own. . . The guy best friend tier. Or, best guy friend tier? No, that changes the meaning some, doesn't it? We can work that out later." 

The light is dim, but she's pretty sure his eyes are filled with surprise, and it makes her heart clench funnily. Like it would never have occurred to him that he could be her best friend. Mindy doesn't know if she should be reassuring him, be sad, or a little offended that maybe he doesn't feel the same way. She does know that it's too late and she's too tired to navigate these waters well. So she does the only thing she can think of and changes the subject. "I think I've seen this before. Which one is this?"

It takes him a moment before he replies. "It Happened One Night."

"Hmm, it looks familiar but I don't remember what happens," The commercial break not even over yet, Danny switches it back to ESPN and leaves it. "Hey, I was enjoying the movie. Why'd you change it?"

"Because it's almost over. And if you can't remember what happens then you need to start from the beginning. It's a classic."

"Fine," she huffs, even though sleep is tugging at her hard.

"Oh, stop being dramatic. We'll rent it sometime."

"I'll make popcorn," she murmurs.

"It's a date. Hey, you don't know how to play the trumpet, do you?"

"Me? Mmm. No. Played sax in the band." Mindy snuggles down deeper, the question off her lips without knowing if she'll last long enough to hear the answer, "Why?" 

"No reason."


	9. Exes and Ohs

** ** ** Monday, May 27th, 2013 - Days Married: 147**

She wakes to the feeling of the pad of his thumb sweeping up the highest ridge of her cheekbone, his fingers in her hair.

"Min."

"Mm." Her eyes crack open, vision a little blurry without her contacts. Danny's sitting on the edge of the bed, hair wet and face shiny from being freshly shaved. 

"Mindy, it's 7:30. We have to leave for the airport no later than 9:00. You need to get up."

His fingers feel nice moving soothingly in her hair. She leans into the touch, Danny's skin smelling like soap.

"Are you seriously falling asleep again right now while I'm waking you up?"

"No."

"Your eyes are closed and you're . . nuzzling."

"Mmm."

"Okay." His hand moves down and suddenly he's got both her wrists and is pulling her upright. 

"Ugh, Danny. I'm up. God." Mindy rubs her eyes, finally focusing them in time to see him walk away. She hadn't noticed before that he is wearing dark-washed blue jeans and nothing else. 

"Good. Because I'm not going to get blamed for you missing the continental breakfast." He calls from the bathroom. 

Mindy throws the covers back and jumps out of bed with a smile breaking open her face. Any day that starts with a hot, shirtless man waking her up followed by waffles is going to be a great day. 

* * *

Danny's been on edge since before they stepped off the elevator at 8:48. He had pushed Mindy in the direction of the breakfast bar while he returned the key cards to the front desk and loaded the rental car. 

Unsurprisingly, the feeling gets worse by the time they board their flight. Only it doesn't feel like that usual sense of unease that plagued him on the way here. This time he doesn't even think about it when the doors are sealed and the cabin begins pressurization. 

If he's being honest, he knows what it is. With every mile drawing them closer to home, there is an increasing bone-deep hollowness making him feel brittle. 

When he was playing devils advocate on Friday regarding all the pros and cons of sharing a room with Mindy, there was one thing he didn't take into consideration. It never occurred to him he'd enjoy it so much. 

Too much. 

Danny never considered wanting her. 

He should have, though. It isn't like it's escaped him that Mindy's a very attractive woman. He's just never been attracted to the point of wanting to do something about it. That is until she, so innocently, asked him to undress her. 

Boundaries have never been her strongest suit. Surely that first night she didn't realize the way her dress gaped open at her back left nothing before him but the smooth expanse of bare skin all the way down to the lacy edge of her panties. How it escaped her the way his fingers were clumsy as they worked to free the clasp of her dress, he doesn't know.

Mindy gives pieces of herself so freely sometimes it's hard not to be greedy and take them. Like after waking from whatever forgotten nightmare on Saturday. Half asleep and skin so warm, she slid her hand over his, and it made him want more. It made him want to roll over and wrap his arms around her and not let go. The most he allowed himself was to loop his pinky and ring finger around hers, keeping them tethered, needing to keep at least that connection. 

It's just his own unfulfilled needs coloring his feelings. He knows that. It doesn't mean anything; it's just proximity. Which is why last night, not five minutes after Mindy fell asleep, he allowed himself to scoot just a little closer. Because it doesn't mean anything. Her head was practically on his pillow anyway, her bed sharing etiquette not what it could be. 

Danny hadn't expected her to curl into him when their sides brushed. He should have pushed her away; he knows he should have. But the way her cheek felt pressed against his shoulder, her palm flat along his ribs, and her hair soft and sweet-smelling brushing his face -  _shit_. He'd missed that easy intimacy. He left the TV on until reruns of sports highlights turned into infommercials. Danny hadn't wanted to fall asleep. 

And now he doesn't want to go home, a feeling of dread gnawing at his stomach. Not when all that waits for him is a silent, pristine apartment with an empty bed. Maybe he'll offer to pick up some shifts at the hospital. Just for the next week until he can reacquaint himself with his solitary routine.

This weekend threw into sharp focus something he hadn't realized he needed. Now that he's painfully aware, there's no forgetting it. Danny's tired of being lonely. 

He isn't really watching the movie playing in front of them, simply staring blankly in the direction of the screen. Finally Mindy's voice cuts through his thoughts. She gives him shit for watching but not wearing headphones. Luckily he'd seen enough to be able to sham an excuse. 

Mindy smiles back at him approvingly then slips the earphones off her head. "Hey. I don't think I ever said it, but thanks for going with me yesterday."

"It wasn't anything." Danny unclasps his hands where they rest in his lap and pushes a little higher in the uncomfortable seat. "You don't have to thank me."

"Okay, you need to learn how to take a compliment. Let's try this again." Turning slightly, Mindy slips her hand over his where it lies between them on the armrest. "Danny. Thank you for having my back and going with me to rehab to see my increasingly horrid ex." She squeezes his hand encouragingly. "Now you say..."

"Right." There's a smile pushing at his lips that she put there, and somehow the warmth of her hand is burnishing the rough edge of his anxiety. "You're welcome."

"See? Way easier than denying you did a nice thing. Well done." 

Her fingers are slipping off his skin, and already he's losing the lightness in his chest. Before she's gone, Danny snags the tips of her fingers, curling his hand under hers. "Anytime." 

Mindy's eyes flicker like flames, and suddenly her fingers no longer feel simply warm. She's burning and it's sucking the oxygen out of the cabin. 

There's a moment he wonders what would happen if he leaned over and kissed her. Would she kiss him back? Danny's eyes drop to her mouth, and he wants to find out. 

The fingers of his right hand twitch, the desire to draw her face to his too strong to resist. His hand doesn't make it an inch off his knee before the plane bottoms out. Danny's stomach goes with it. 

The turbulence lasts only a second, and when it's over so is his momentary lapse in control. He's breathing hard and might be crushing Mindy's hand. 

"You okay?" Her voice is low. 

He loosens his grip and swallows hard. "Yeah. Yeah."

Mindy strokes her thumb over his knuckles, her eyes soft in a way that makes it clear she doesn't believe his lie. For the hundredth time he's so very grateful to have her by his side.  

Everything will be fine. He already has so much of what he needs right here. It's a treasured and hard to find thing: he has genuine, albeit unlikely, friend. One he's starting to realize he can count on. It's more than Danny's had in a very long time. 

He doesn't have to be alone anymore. And he can find someone to share his bed. That part is easy. 

** Tuesday, May 28th, 2013 - Days Married: 148 **

She isn't at all like Mindy had imagined her. And if she's being honest, she'd imagined her very clearly. The lasting image honed of Danny's first wife was of a petite woman, tan with chestnut hair that barely tumbled past her thin shoulders and fierce green eyes. 

So to find Christina to be statuesque and lithe, with short, trendily mussed blond hair and blue eyes as cool as her demeanor - well - it was a shock. She looked both plain and meticulously styled, and Mindy was suddenly as intrigued by the woman as she was more certain than ever she didn't like her. 

There is a scuttling murmur around reception which normally she would love, but Mindy can't seem to focus on anything other than the closed, frosted glass door to Danny's office. 

"Bit of a surprise, eh?" Jeremy's voice cuts through her thoughts, startling her. "Wonder what she's doing here."

"Yeah." Mindy begins distractedly shuffling the mail in her hands again, still not seeing it. "I dunno."

"That's it? No wild, speculating gossip or commentary on her wardrobe? You feeling alright? You look a bit green."

"I'm fine," she bites out. Giving up, Mindy shoves her unopened mail back into its standing inbox. "It's just -- what good reason could  _she_  have to come here?"

Jeremy has the good graces to slide a palm over his mouth and keep his voice down when he says, "Oh my God, you've slept with him."

" _What_ ?! No! Are you crazy? No I haven't." Mindy jerks on his arm so they're not standing right in the middle of reception. "Not unless you mean in the  _just_  sleeping kind of way, which was entirely your fault. I have certainly not slept with him in the  _not_ sleeping kind of way. God, why would you even think that?"

"I didn't until just now." Jeremy regards her in that shrewd way he can from time to time, and it's making her uncomfortable, wondering what he thinks he sees. She stands straighter. "But I'm starting to wonder if I interpreted your situation all wrong. You two have been awfully chummy lately." 

"You're insane. I'm only concerned because  _our friend_  and colleague was just ambushed by his monstrous ex-wife. You know, instead of making crazy made up stories and accusing me of things, you could show a little bit of compassion." 

"Fine. Clearly I've gone mental to think for a moment there's anything going on between you and Danny," he says, resigned. "You may want to do something about your face though, if you don't want other people to jump to that same conclusion."

Reflexively she draws a hand to her cheek. "What's wrong with my face?"

"Nothing," he says as he walks away. "You're just wearing the look of jealous wife whose husband had an ex appear out of the blue." 

* * *

Christina is in there with him no more than ten minutes, tops. Yet it feels like an hour before the door opens again. Danny comes out first, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and steps aside to allow Christina to pass.

She strides smoothly toward the elevator, only stopping for a moment when she gets to Mindy. "It's really nice to meet you."

Mindy opens her mouth to say something, but her tongue is tied in confusion and there are no words to say back anyway. It isn't nice to meet her. She doesn't have to worry about it though, Christina not waiting for a reply. 

Mouth still agape, she turns at the same moment Danny grabs her by the elbow and pulls her into his office. Shutting the door and placing his hands on his hips, he paces a tiny path in front of her. "I'm trying really hard right now to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"What? About what? And why was your ex-wife here?"

"You don't know? You're telling me you didn't do this?" he says, eyebrows pulled up. Then softer, "Please tell me you didn't, Mindy."

"Do  _what?_  What's going on?"

He sighs, a look of relief washing over him while still maintaining a pent up tension that's making her really nervous. "There was a letter in my desk. An old letter I never sent." He scratches a hand in his hair, hesitating. 

" _Annnnd_?"

"And somebody took it out of my desk and mailed it! That's why she was here. She thinks -- she thought I wanted to get back together."

Her throat constricts and she has to force the words out. "Is that something you want?"

"What? No. Of course not. Are you nuts?" He looks offended she would even ask and it makes her feel considerably better. "So if it wasn't you..."

"It was someone else in the office. Who would do that? I mean, it  _sounds_  like something I would do, but..."

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." Anger flashes in his eyes and it imbues her with some of it. The realization that someone they work with was the harbinger of Christina coming here is beginning to piss her off. Ready to bring down wrath on whoever that is, Mindy's already got one hand on the doorknob when Danny grabs her free hand, stopping her. "Wait. There's something else."

She turns back, giving him her full attention. He must realize he's still holding on to her hand, and drops it quickly before speaking. 

"Christina was fairly insistent that I would come around. That she'd win me back."

"And obviously that's not going to happen. Right?"

"No. I already told you that. But I know how she is. Once she sets her mind to something... I didn't really have another choice. Not if I wanted to get rid of her. It just kinda slipped out."

There's a feeling tightening her gut that has more to do with the way Danny actually seems nervous than the words he's saying. "What just 'kinda slipped out?'" 

"I told her it was too late. That I'd moved on."

"Okay. That doesn't sound so bad."

His chin is tucked down and he's looking up at her through his lashes, a pout on his face that can be anything if not intentional. It's a look so ingratiating it makes her know whatever he's going to say next is going to be bad. "I'm glad to hear you say that. Because she's having dinner with us on Saturday."

"She's doing wha--"

"At our apartment."

"At  _our_ \--"

"She said she wanted to get to know my new wife. For closure."

_"Your new_  -- Oh my _God_. Tell me you didn't."

"I did." Danny grimaces then tries for a smile. "Are you mad?"

Mindy's eyes narrow while she really considers the question. Dinner with Danny's ex-wife under the pretense that they're actually married for real? It could be the dinner from hell. 

Or it could be a hell of a lot of fun.

"Maybe," she finally answers. "That all depends on you."


	10. Entertaining and Other Covert Maneuvers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who has left comments and given this story support: Every single kind word is appreciated beyond measure. Your encouragement keeps me going! Thank you all SO MUCH.

**Saturday, June 1st, 2013 - Days Married: 152**

"Are you sure you brought enough stuff?"

"No," Mindy says, out of breath and struggling to clear the door. "But this is all I could carry. The rest is still in the cab." The straps on her left shoulder are slipping. "Help!"

Danny grabs the two canvas bags before they can hit the floor. "Is there seriously more stuff downstairs?"

"Yes," she huffs a lock of hair out of her eyes. "You mind getting it?"

"Don't you think this is going a little overboard? Even for you?"

"Listen, you are the one who got me into this, and you agreed to my terms, so. . . shush."

"Fair enough." He sets everything down by the sofa and grabs his keys on the way to the door.

"Oh, you should take your wallet too." Mindy's got her thumbnail shoved in her mouth. "I may have forgotten to pay the driver."

* * *

It doesn't take long. But even in the short amount of time it takes Danny to make it back upstairs, twenty dollars poorer and with all the rest of her things, his apartment looks noticeably different. There are colorful throw pillows and magazines placed haphazardly. And Mindy's nowhere to be seen.

He leaves everything by the door, unsure what all there is and what she intends to do with it, and goes back to what he was doing in the kitchen before she got here. After five days of debating what to make, Danny decided to go with a recipe he's perfected recently. Roman-style chicken with orzo and a spring salad. There was a moment where he considered making the homemade bolognese that takes all day to simmer. It was Christina's favorite. That idea was obviously dismissed immediately with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Danny's julienning bell peppers when Mindy reappears. She's smiling and nearly bouncing on her toes, having way too much fun cluttering his home. Still. It's infectious and he can't help smiling back when she peers around him to see what he's doing. "You want wine?" he asks.

"Mm, yes please." She pushes herself up onto the counter.

There are five bottles of the Malbec he knows she likes best tucked into the wine rack of the bar. Clearly they're not all for tonight, but he's learned spending time with Mindy these last few months it's a good idea to have at least one bottle of red on hand just in case.

He pours them both a healthy glass, and when he rounds the counter he notices for the first time how she looks. Mindy's ankles are crossed, and she's gently swinging her bare feet, her heel bouncing off the base-cabinet. The dress she's wearing has flowers on it and hugs every curve in a distractingly perfect way. She looks effortlessly sexy and completely comfortable.

Mindy looks at home here, and it does something to relax the dread that's slowly been building in his chest all day.

Her fingers brush his when she takes the glass from him, and he has to suppress the completely irrational urge to kiss her cheek. "So what all do you have left?" He gestures to the stack of things still by the door.

"Ah! That would be shoes, some photos, the rest of my clothes, and some bathroom stuff."

Danny takes a long sip of his wine before picking up the chef's knife again. "You are actually planning on _leaving_ , right?"

"We'll see. Depends on if you play your cards right tonight, hubby." His head shoots in her direction in time to see her burying a cheeky smile in her glass. "You have to think these things through, Danny."

"What things?"

"Christina's intentions while she's here."

"She said. It's for closure. Which isn't actually a thing, but if it ends this for good then it's worth it."

"That may be part of it. I won't say it isn't. But you get that isn't the main reason she wants to come here, right?" He shrugs. "She's coming here to scope out her replacement. She wants to see if this is real. If you're happy. So that's what we're going to give her."

There's a part of him that's afraid to ask. He does anyway. "How do we do that?"

"I'm glad you asked!" She hops down off the counter. "First, we set the scene. A happy, combined home, right? Christina will never believe it if she came in here and this place looked like it normally does."

"What's wrong with how my apartment looks?"

"Nothing. You actually have surprisingly good taste."

"You mean that to sound nice, but you get how it's an insult, right?"

The correction doesn't even slow her down. "It's just too masculine. No way would she believe a woman lives here. That's where the pillows and things come in. It isn't much, but if she questions it we'll just say it's because we haven't been married long."

"Okay." He hadn't really thought past what they were going to eat. Guess it's a good thing she did.

"Which actually brings me to the most important part of making this work." She hesitates and with his back to her he can hear her take a drink and then set her glass down on the counter, taking a step closer to him. "Christina is never going to believe we're together if there isn't at least a little bit of . . . affection."

The knife falters in Danny's hand. He doesn't look at her. "Affection. Yeah."

"Hey." Her hand slips over his wrist and he places the knife on the cutting board. He can't ignore facing her anymore. "Are you going to be okay with this?"

Mindy's regarding him in a way that makes him feel like she thinks he's too damaged to handle this - and maybe he is - but it irritates him enough to want to prove her wrong.

He turns, flipping his hand over so he's holding her wrist too, and brings his free hand up to cup her face. Danny brushes his thumb up her cheekbone, and speaks low, looking deep into her brown eyes. "You know, I _can_ be affectionate, Mindy."

It isn't his imagination that her breath hitches. He can feel the muscles in her jaw clench as she swallows. Danny sweeps his thumb back down, and her eyes follow that lead. She's staring at his mouth, and it spreads satisfaction warmly through him. It's nice to know he has the ability to affect her the same way she does him.

"See?" He buries his fingers a little further into her hair. Leaning forward, Danny pecks a light kiss on her forehead before releasing her altogether and turning his attention back to the colorful peppers in front of him. "That won't be a problem. What else?"

"Hmm?"

"You said there were several things we had to do to sell this. What else is there?"

"Oh. Personal items. If she has the opportunity, Christina will definitely check out as much of that as possible. There has to be stuff of mine in your closet, things on the nightstand, and the bathroom is especially important."

"Why the bathroom?"

"Because the bathroom is where this whole thing can fall apart. If you have a woman living with you the bathroom will hold the most evidence. There has to be an extra toothbrush, makeup, a blow dryer, brushes, tampons, lotion--"

"You stocked my bathroom with tampons?"

"Yes. And I'm actually planning on leaving those here. You never know when you might have a guest start her period, Danny. It's considerate to have supplies."

Danny scrapes the last pepper from the cutting board into a bowl and grabs the pancetta to begin cubing it. "I don't like that. But it isn't a bad point."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. What does it matter what my bathroom looks like? There's no reason for her to go in there."

"You're right! And that's what makes it brilliant!"

She's doing that bouncy thing on her toes again, and it's ridiculous how pleased she is with the amount of nonsensical planning she's put into this.

"Because there _isn't_ any reason for her to go in there," she continues. "And yet she will find a way. Which is why us leading with there being an issue with the guest bath is a stroke of genius! It's the most confidant move possible. We're giving her permission to snoop!"

"Or we could just be normal and have her use the perfectly operational guest bathroom."

"I seriously feel like you haven't understood anything I've just said to you. Trust me, Danny. I know women. And I know being a jealous ex. This is the way to go if you want to get this woman back out of your life for good."

"Fine. I'll trust that you know what you're doing. But you may want to hurry doing it. She'll be here in about a half an hour."

"Oh, you're right." Mindy takes another quick gulp of wine before scurrying over to the collection of things she's deemed necessary to move in.

Danny finishes with the pancetta and throws it into the bowl with the peppers. He pulls out the chicken and everything he needs from the refrigerator to deglaze the pan and make the sauce, then starts the water for the orzo. As he works, he can hear her moving around his personal space. She's humming something, and singing bits of it in spurts as she comes to lyrics she remembers. It's efficiently diverting, taking Danny's mind off the oncoming storm. Mindy's noise is somehow quieting his mind to where he can focus on what he's doing, making sure everything will come out right.

* * *

It takes her less time to place everything than she thought it would. Danny has a huge and gorgeous master bathroom, with a shameful amount of unused cabinet space. By the time she's stuffed everything into its temporary home, the place still doesn't even look cluttered.

Mindy takes a moment to freshen up, which is incredibly convenient since all of her makeup and toiletries are already there. Her hair is pinned back loosely on the sides, leaving the length of it to fall down her back in a few softly-looping curls. It's messy on the left side from where Danny's fingers had threaded in her hair, and she sweeps it back into place and smooths down any flyaways. She's pleased he's committed to this. Even if him touching her freely and like he means it is more distracting than she anticipated. Still, it's better than him being wooden and uncomfortable once Christina gets here.

She isn't sure why, but sticking the point that he's happy and that there's no longer a place for Danny's ex-wife in his life, feels like a task of the utmost importance. This night will be a success if it's the last thing Mindy ever does.  

Touching up her brazenly red lipstick, she finishes in the bathroom. Which leaves only the small, framed stack of photos to place.

* * *

"Hey. Pick a record to put on, will you?" Danny asks, never turning from whatever heavenly smelling thing it is he's attending to on the stove.

"Oh, that's a good idea! It will really help set the atmosphere." Mindy walks over and opens the drop-front door to the record cabinet, squatting to be able to see the rows of albums to choose from. Despite there being quite a collection, it doesn't take her long to flip through it. Mostly it's bad '70's rock or surprisingly current hipster-folk bands. The few she's familiar with are the older ones. "Tapestry, Danny? Seriously?"

"What's wrong with Carole King?" He actually sounds offended.

"Nothing's wrong with Carole King. This is a great album. My _mom_ loves Carole King, too. Which is why it's kind of weird."

"It's not weird. It's good music."

"It is. Perfect for a breakup or if you need a little female empowerment." An image pops into Mindy's head and it makes her laugh hard enough to almost lose her balance.

" _What?!_ "

"Nothing," she croaks, trying to catch her breath. "I just very clearly pictured you singing along to Natural Woman." She snorts and has to cover her mouth with her hand to keep it from happening again.

Danny throws a grin over his shoulder. "I'm a better dancer than a singer. But if you really want to hear it..."

He gets the first line out, and she can't take it. "No, don't. Stop." Mindy topples, her butt hitting the floor with a thump, but she's laughing too hard to care. "Danny, you've got to stop or I'm going pee!"

"Come on. It wasn't that bad." He's laughing too as he returns a few things to the fridge. "Why don't you put it on then, and leave the singing to the professional."

"Mm, I would. But this is the wrong kind of music for this dinner."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's too intense. We need something a little more peppy."

"Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart."

"Ohh, that's very good, Danny. You are making an excellent pretend husband." Mindy goes back to leafing through the rack and almost immediately finds the perfect one. She pulls herself up, album in hand.

Lifting the lid to the mid-century modern teak cabinet, she finds it housing not a relic, but a new and brightly shining Audio-Technica turntable. He may not have great taste in music, but Danny's taste in vintage furniture and high-end electronics is impressive. She seats the record and places the needle in the furthest groove, then flips the on switch. Immediately warm soul begins emanating from some hidden surround sound speakers.

" _Al Green?!_ How is this more ‘dinner with the ex’ appropriate?"

Mindy rounds the island and picks up the wine glass she left there earlier. "It's cheerful."

"It's _romantic_." Danny gestures with the wooden spoon in his hand before he realizes it's dripping.

"Yes. And we're very much in love. Remember?"

He cuts his eyes to her before going back to intently stirring, the argument dying on his lips. "Right."

She takes the last sip of wine left in her glass and scans the scene before her with a critical eye. Everything looks warm, and not too terribly out of place. Danny looks nice; casual and as relaxed as he can be in this situation. He's wearing blue jeans and a soft looking blue-grey button-down with the cuffs rolled up. From the best she can tell dinner looks nearly ready and smells divine, and there really isn't anything else for her to do but wait.

Mindy grabs the open wine bottle and refills her glass before topping Danny's off without asking.

"Thanks." He picks up the glass with his left hand while he is still stirring the sauce. She stands by his elbow, starting to feel antsy with nothing to do.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Um." He taps the utensil against the edge of the pan before placing it on a metal spoon-rest and looking around him. "Yes, actually."

Grabbing a dishtowel, he pulls a small colander filled with freshly rinsed strawberries from the sink and sets them on the counter. From a drawer he pulls out a cutting board and a small paring knife, and places them in front of her. "Will you slice these for the salad?"

"Sure." She delicately severs the green top off of one before stopping to turn back around to him. "You're putting strawberries in the salad?"

Using tongs, he's nestling golden brown pieces of chicken back into the pan. "Trust me. Spinach salad, strawberries, toasted walnuts, goat cheese, and a homemade honey vinaigrette. It's delicious."

"Okay. That does sound pretty good." She's slicing the top off the second strawberry when there's a knock at the door. They turn to each other, Danny's eyes wide, and it's time to get this show on the road. He takes one step toward the entryway and she stops him, grabbing his hand. "Wait."

"What?" He looks slightly panicked, and it forces her to be calm.

"We've got this," she says, before wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him down slightly to hug him. When she pulls away there's a smudge of her red lipstick at his jaw. She rubs her fingertips against the hard line of tendon and bone before stopping abruptly. The mark of her lips on him is one perfect addition Mindy wishes she would have thought of on her own. "Finish what you were doing. I'll get the door."

She takes a deep breath and opens Danny's front door with an unwavering hand. Christina is standing tall and ramrod straight on the other side, clutching a bottle of wine and looking just ill at ease enough to make Mindy feel better about having to be gracious.

"Christina." Placing the warmest smile on her face she can force, she reaches out and lays a light hand on the woman's elbow, ushering her inside. "Welcome to our home. Please come in."

"Thank you. It's nice to see you again."

"May I take your--" Christina's wearing a white, tuxedo-pleated shirt, with the buttons fastened all the way to her neck, crisp black trousers, and a pair of very expensive looking knock-off stilettos. No jacket. No purse. Who the fuck doesn't carry a purse? "--your wine?"

"Oh. Yes." She laughs a bit nervously. "It's for you. I wasn't sure what you like. I figure you can never go wrong with something French and red."

"That's true. And very considerate of you. We actually have a bottle of Malbec open if you'd like a glass. Or I think there's some white open in the fridge. We were just finishing up dinner."

"A glass of the Malbec would be lovely. Thank you." She can't help watching Danny closely as Christina follows her to the kitchen. He's very intently squeezing lemon juice over the colorful serving bowl of orzo.

Mindy grabs the appropriate stemware and empties the bottle into it.

"Hello, Danny. It's good to see you."

He takes a deep breath and finally looks up when she addresses him. "Hey."

It's all he can muster and even that sounds strained. Mindy tries not to cringe at the ever increasing awkwardness and hands Christina her glass. "Dinner smells wonderful. What are we having?"

"It's something new. You've never had it before." Danny takes a long drink before setting the glass down hard and turning back toward the stove.

"Oh, good. You didn't used to drink red wine very often, but I didn't think beer was appropriate." She's rambling. "I'd hoped Mindy would like it, but that's - that’s good."

"It was very thoughtful," Mindy interjects, needing to change the current of this conversation. "I'm sure we'll enjoy it. Won't we, honey?"

"Yeah, sure," he answers. "You get that on one of your many trips abroad, changing the world one picture at a time?"

"Actually, no. Bordeaux isn't particularly war-torn at the moment. I got it at the Trader Joe's on the corner. It was buy one get one half off. I'm thinking now maybe I should have bought two."

Danny's ears are tingeing pink, and Mindy races to regain the reins on this before he blows up. "So, Christina. Where all do you travel for your photography?"

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "Where's the restroom? I'd like to wash up before we eat."

Mindy breathes a tiny sigh of relief. "The powder room is unfortunately having some plumbing issues at the moment. You can use our bathroom. It's through the double-doors."

She waits until Christina is out of sight before saying anything, and when she does, Mindy's voice is a harsh whisper. "What the hell is the matter with you? You're supposed to be rubbing your happiness in her face, not acting like a sullen child. You're ruining this whole thing."

When Danny turns to her his face is still red, but his expression is one crumpled with defeat, and it twists her stomach in a knot. "I don't think I can do this, Min."

"Yes, you can." He starts to turn away and she can't help reaching out, grabbing his shoulder and making him look at her. "Yes, you can. But you don't have to. Say the word and I'll take pleasure in tossing her bony ass out as soon as she's done pilfering the bathroom."

Danny shifts on his feet and doesn't look any more relieved. She continues, "Or, _or_ , you can pull it together and we'll get through this."

He's looking down at the floor, and it's a surprise when she feels his fingers lightly brush her waist. "What do you think I should do?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable doing. But Danny -- Hey. Look at me." His eyes leap to hers at the command. "You can do this. You just have to remember you're not doing it alone."

"Yeah. I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Well then do something about it. Make her so jealous of how happy and in love you are, and what a great marriage you finally have, that she'll never darken your door again." The bluesy guitar and organ melody of Love and Happiness is bleeding through the sound system, and Mindy sways closer, into his touch.

He gets it when she slides her arm around his neck, and a reluctant smile pulls up his lips as he counters her halting dance moves with his own, much smoother ones. Danny grabs her right hand and spins her out toward the sink and back, and Mindy can't help the laugh that bubbles out. "See? Do this right, Danny, and you may end up having a really fun time tonight."

"Well it won't be dull, that's for sure." Mindy shrieks when he dips her, expertly bending her so low the ends of her hair brush the floor before pulling her back to him. She's breathless with it and the sudden lightness filling her chest.

It's so distracting that she didn't notice Christina walk out of the bedroom. Mindy can see her just barely out of the corner of her eye standing by the piano. Feeling the relaxed slope of his shoulders, she's sure Danny doesn't realize she's there.

Cinching her arm tighter, she presses against him, the friendly distance between them evaporating. She can feel the shocked puff of breath escape him as Mindy touches the hair at the back of his neck. Just as the hilariously apropos first lines of Let's Stay Together begin to play, she whispers in his ear, "We have an audience."

She's proud that despite how his body stiffens, he doesn't stop dancing. He draws their clasped hands to his chest, and rocks them in time with the music. They stay that way for a few seconds, and with every one the tension is returning more to his shoulders. She gives him an encouraging squeeze.

Then, very much to her surprise, Danny brushes her hair back and touches his lips to her skin. Starting just under her ear, he places a row of three lingering kisses down her neck. It makes her shiver.

"Thanks," he murmurs before pulling away. "Now finish slicing the strawberries."


	11. Taking Care

**Saturday, June 1st, 2013 - Days Married: 152**

Midway through dinner, Christina suggested they open a third bottle of wine. Granted, she was nearly a whole bottle behind them. Now Mindy's blood is sparkling with a buzz. Not the kind of buzzed that makes her feel detached and out of control, but the kind that is making her skin tingle with warmth and relaxing every muscle in her body.

It's doing wonderful things for the caliber of the conversation, too. Everyone is just loose enough to where it is no longer strained. Even Danny seems to be past the initial hostility, and is engaged listening to the story Christina is telling.

Too consumed thinking about all the ways the evening has gone well so far, Mindy _hadn't_ actually been listening. Not at the beginning, anyway. She isn't really sure when or where this all supposedly took place, and it's too late to politely ask. But her attention is peaked and she starts listening in earnest when Christina gets to the part about being carjacked by militants bearing assault rifles.

At this point she has to interject. "Wait. How many of them were there?"

"Three. And there were four of us, but of course they were armed and we obviously were not, so..."

"Right. So what happened?"

"Well, I was driving the Jeep, and it wasn't like there was an option other than stopping. We were completely blocked. And we'd all been warned about traveling that way after dark. There had been a lot of instances of roadblocks and robberies, so it wasn't a complete shock."

"Sure," Danny finally speaks up. "Gun toting thieves on a deserted road in the dead of night. Happens all the time. Good to keep a level head about you."

At the sarcasm, Christina shoots him a pointed look that appears well honed, and continues. "So we start pooling all the valuables we have, which isn't much other than the equipment. Thankfully I had the forethought to grab the memory cards from the camera bag and slip them in my pocket."

Danny snorts and mutters something under his breath, and Mindy shushes him.

"But when they come up to the car and realized we're a group of journalists, they decided we might be worth more for a ransom than just robbing us."

"Oh my God," Mindy breaths out. It's like a really gritty and terrifying movie Angelina Jolie would make.

Christina takes a sip of her wine. "So they just get _in_ the Jeep, the man who was obviously calling the shots pushing me out of the driver's seat. And it's so crammed - because seven people - that I end up in the passenger seat on the lap of one of them."

"Jesus." Danny shifts, looking uncomfortable in his chair. Mindy's fingers brush the top of his hand instinctively. Even though the way his brow is creased in concern for his (clearly alive and well) ex-wife makes her feel a little twinge of something petty she'd rather not name.

"As they're driving us to God only knows where, Rob, the one I was telling you was our contact there, starts trying to reason with them. Of course I don't speak the language, so I have no idea what they're saying, but the guys with the guns are starting to get really agitated, and then begin yelling at each other. I found out later Rob had been rationalizing that since we _were_ journalists, kidnapping us would cause them way more grief than it would benefit them. And assured them they weren't the kind of men who took hostages."

"Because appealing to the humanity of the armed robbers who kidnapped you was the way to go?" He asks in a way that is more accusatory than it is a question.

"Well, yes. They _were robbers_. Totally ill equipped to take hostages. Anyway, it worked. The one driving finally stopped the vehicle and they pushed us out and made us lie in the ditch with our hands behind our heads. After yelling at each other for a few more minutes, they finally drove off. And that was that." Christina leans back in her seat and rolls her wineglass between both hands, the base squeaking as it rubs against the wooden tabletop. She smiles with a strange kind of satisfaction when she adds, "I did find out later the reason they were arguing before leaving was that one of them was really insistent on shooting us."

Mindy had been waiting for his disapproving rant, and the way Danny’s nostrils are flaring as he sucks in a sharp breath makes it look like it's going to be a doozie. What she isn't prepared for is him to turn and address it toward her. "This is exactly why I don't like you taking the train by yourself at three o'clock in the morning!"

" _What?!_ How are you making this about me?"

"Because weapon carrying lunatics aren't just relegated to war-ravaged countries, Mindy. It just isn't safe in the middle of the night when you're all alone and the subway is deserted. It's once a month tops when you have to go into the hospital that late. There's no reason for you not to just call a car service. And by the time you can get dressed and walk all the way to the station, it wouldn't take any more time."

"Fine! Next time I'll call a car service. Jeez."

"I think I'm starting to remember why we're divorced," Christina pipes up. Mindy truly can't help the glare she shoots her, before tamping it down. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that to sound the way it did. I just meant, I'm starting to remember all the ways my change of focus in my career made you uncomfortable, Danny. You are very protective of the ones you love. It's a nice thing."

Mindy squeezes the hand she had forgotten she was still holding, but Danny doesn't really seem like he needs the gesture of support. He shrugs a little and picks up his drink with his free hand. "You're right. I would have _hated_ what you're doing now. I'm glad I don't have to worry about it. You seem like you know what you're doing."

"I do. And it may seem crazy, but it makes me happy."

"I'm glad," he replies. They stay still in the silence for a few moments, and Mindy thinks for the first time that tonight may offer more than simply a way to get his ex to move along. Tonight may actually hold the closure Danny needs. Even if he doesn't believe in those kinds of things. Christina shifts, checking her watch, and it appears like she's about to make her exit when Danny speaks again. "Who wants dessert?"

A smile flickers across Christina's face that's full of knowledge. "Did you bake?"

"Don't get too excited. It's just an apple crumble I threw together yesterday."

"That sounds amazing. I haven't had refined sugar since before Christmas."

Mindy catches the judgey comment right before it slips off her tongue. No sugar. No purse. Wild kidnapping stories. Who the hell lives like this? Keeping her mouth shut, Mindy stands and starts stacking their plates as Danny goes to dish up dessert.

"Do you need any help with that?" Christina asks, somewhat absently, pulling the cell phone from her pocket.

"No, no. I'm just going to clear the table. We'll clean up later."

"Okay. I should probably check my messages."

It takes two trips, but Mindy clears everything, scrapes and rinses the plates and bowls, and leaves it all piled high in the sink. If he asks nicely, she would actually be willing to help him clean up.

Danny's got three delicate looking, etched-glass dessert plates on the far side of the island, and is scooping vanilla ice cream onto the reheated crumble.

" _I didn't know you made dessert!_ " she whispers excitedly, sidling close so only he can hear her.

"What? Am I not going to serve dessert? I'm not a neanderthal." He's wearing an offended expression so earnest it's nearly comical, and in return Mindy smiles. The image pops in her head of him in an apron, frowning and taking his baking so very seriously. It makes her want to see it for real, to watch how this man goes about making apple crumbles and crafting beautiful gingerbread houses.

She grabs a spoon off the counter, and from the nearest plate swiftly gathers a large bite, the ice cream already melting.

"Jeez-- _Min_. Could you at least wait until we sit down?"

"Mmm." She shakes her head. It's decadently sweet and still a little tart, and it's true -- there's no way she could have waited to taste it. Mindy mumbles before swallowing, "No. 's so good."

He's starting to grin at her, the slow one that begins in his eyes and works its way south. "Yeah, it must be pretty good."

Reaching out, he swipes his thumb from the corner of her mouth and down her chin, taking with it a sticky, cool drip of ice cream she didn't realize had fallen from the spoon.

Then, like it's nothing, he sticks the pad of his thumb in his mouth and licks off what he's wiped away.

It's strangely intimate and it sends frissons sparking through her blood. Almost immediately Danny seems to realize it too, his hand faltering and face flushing the tiniest bit. His eyes are wide, and Mindy thinks maybe he's going to apologize or laugh, something. What she doesn't expect is for him to take a deep breath and turn his gaze down to her mouth.

She touches her fingers to her chin and asks a bit self-consciously, her voice hushed, "Did you get it all?"

He stares for another moment before looking back in her eyes. Any hint of a smile has vanished and he's dead serious when he draws his fingers across her jaw. "No."

Danny's parted lips barely brush the corner of her mouth, followed by the tip of his tongue ghosting the edge of her bottom lip. Her eyelids droop, the feeling so heady it paralyzes her. He pulls away the slightest bit so that they're not touching, only space enough for their breath between them. Mindy's heart is pounding so loudly she wonders if he can hear it.

He's looking at her and is too close to see his expression clearly, and Mindy is curious to know. To see if there's any indication there as to what he's thinking. And who he's thinking about. But she can't seem to lean away from the feeling of his lips, warm and hovering over hers.

So Mindy closes her eyes and pushes away any questions, and leaves the rest up to him. Because right now, she doesn't care if he means it or if it's all for show. She just wants him to kiss her.

Then, agonizingly slowly, he does.

Danny covers her mouth with his, softly and with no hint of tentativeness, just the lazy pull of his lips. It feels almost innocent. Defensible, even. Like if her boyfriend were to walk in this very moment she could argue there was nothing beyond a play-acting kiss between friends.

Then she has to exhale, the breath long since caught in her chest needing out, and as she does Danny draws her top lip between his. There is nothing defensible about the way Mindy scrapes her teeth roughly on his bottom lip in return, eliciting a muffled grunt from him.

It turns the tide instantly, Danny stepping into her, the hand which had been gently cupping her jaw now tugging hard on her neck. With it, her head is thrown back and Mindy's mouth opens wider, their tongues glancing off each other.

The new contact sends an electric current with it. And as slowly as it started, it is abruptly over, the voltage knocking them apart.

They stand there, carton of ice cream melting all over his counter and their breath coming in shallow little puffs. Danny's hand is still wrapped around her neck, and he's tracing his thumb from her chin down to the hollow of her throat and back up again. That coupled with the his eyes - all dark surprise and _want_ \- and the swollen shine of his lips, is so painfully alluring it makes Mindy have to close her eyes against it.  

It's equal parts a disappointment and a relief when Danny takes a deep, shaky breath and releases her completely. He mumbles something that sounds like, _I'm sorry_.

The clink of glass against stone sounds as he picks up the two untouched plates, then carries them back to the table, all before Mindy has the courage to open her eyes again.

She tips the thin cardboard lid over the ice cream container, securing it, and steadfastly ignores the sticky mess the whole thing leaves on the granite. She really should grab the dishrag and in two quick swipes it would be done; the longer it's left untended to, the harder it will be to clean up. Mindy leaves it.

* * *

Never would Danny have guessed the most difficult part of the evening would come not at the hands of Christina, but Mindy. Not that it can really be blamed on her.

He can't seem to stop looking at her. She is radiant. Appealingly mussed, and Danny's still within the parameters of the ruse to get to touch her. He has to sit on the hand closest to her the whole way through dessert to keep from reaching out and doing just that. It would be so easy to lace their fingers together, or push the hair _he_ messed up away from her face. Or, more tantalizingly and less easy to explain away, reach out and brush the tips of his fingers over the bare skin at the top of her leg, just below where the hem of her dress ends. It's a mere inch from his own knee, and he wants to so badly Danny fears he hasn't heard any of the conversation since they sat back down.

Christina stands and she and Mindy exchange pleasantries, then both women are looking at him somewhat expectantly. Right. She's leaving. He should walk her out. Danny follows after her, ready for this to be done and to shut the door on his past. Though he's a little nervous at the thought of what happens next.

"I didn't want to believe it." Christina has turned to him in the entryway, and is looking at him appraisingly. He doesn't follow the thread of conversation and where things left off.

"Believe what?"

"This," she waves her hand out toward the expanse of his apartment. "There was a part of me when I got here tonight that was holding on to some hope that you really had sent that letter. That you weren't happy in your new marriage and it was your way of reaching out."

Christina's smiling wryly, her eyes shimmering slightly as she continues. "I feel a bit foolish now, if I'm being honest."

"Why is that?"

"Doubting you, for one. But more foolish than that was ever thinking we should try again. As if we could go back to those people - practically kids - who we were when we first fell in love. There were several, very real reasons why our marriage failed, and until I spent time with you again, somehow I'd romanticized them away."

"Thanks for that." He nods curtly. "Glad to be a reminder as to why being with me was so horrible."

"Jesus, Dan, that wasn't an insult. Don't be so sensitive. Surely by now you can admit that people change and sometimes relationships fail."

"I didn't change," he bites out defensively, and Danny wonders if maybe that was part of their problem.

"No. I never said you did. That's all me. Not everyone can be so certain of themselves and what they'll want forever at the age of 24. Miraculously, you did. And you're lucky enough to have found someone who wants those same things you always have. Who loves in the same fierce way you do. You are a very lucky man."

He swallows hard and cannot disagree.

"It's good for me to see it. Even with remembering all the ways we - that _I_ \- failed, I'm not sure I would have understood it fully if I hadn't seen you with her." She tips her head in Mindy's direction, and Danny can't help turning to watch her pottering around his kitchen. "I could never make you as happy as you are now."

His head whips back to her, eyebrows raised. "You really think that?"

"Yeah," she laughs. "I know you're still in your honeymoon-phase fugue state, but surely you can realize how un-subtle you two are."

"How do you mean?" Danny thinks he knows, but it makes his palms clammy, and he wants to hear her say it.

"You can't keep your hands off each other.” Her eyes are glittering teasingly. “I seriously considered just leaving quietly to give you two some alone time after you started making out in the kitchen."

Danny rubs an uncomfortable hand against the back of his neck. "Listen, I'm sorry about that. We got a little carried away."

"Nah, come on. It's nice. I remember what that felt like. And believe it or not, I am really happy for you. You deserve Mindy. A woman who loves you exactly the way you are and looks at you like you hung the moon. And that stopped being me about ten years ago."

Those last words sting more than he would ever admit, but that's only a small blip on his radar mingled with everything else she just said. Danny wants that for himself too. Does Mindy really look at him that way? 

"I should go." Christina leans in, a light hand on his arm, and kisses his cheek. "Thank you for having me. It was very gracious of you and Mindy to open your home."

"Yeah. It wasn't anything." He opens the door, and just about the time she makes it to the end of the hallway, Danny calls after her. "Take care of yourself. Okay?"

Christina flashes him that closed-lipped, enigmatic smile, and then is gone.

* * *

Resting his back against the front door, Danny takes a moment to collect himself. This night has drained him, leaving hollow places echoing in his chest. There's a slightly hysterical feeling building, the one he only feels when he's on the edge of losing control, and for the first time in a very long time, Danny craves a cigarette.

He even goes as far as grabbing his keys off the table by the door, intent on running out and buying a pack before he'd be missed, when he hears something crack in the kitchen, followed by Mindy cursing. It doesn't take any imagination to conjure the rant she would launch into if she knew he had any intention of smoking. He can almost feel the sharp poke of her finger on his sternum, and that thought makes Danny reconsider. It doesn't take away the urge, but it provides an immediate reason not to do it.

Danny turns, tossing the keys back onto the credenza, and that's when he notices it for the first time.

"Where did you get this?" Snatching up the etched pewter frame, he strides into the kitchen.

"Get what?"

" _This._ "

Mindy's busily running water in the sink and it takes her a moment to look up at the 8x10” photo clutched in his hand. "Oh _that_. I thought it added a nice touch."

"This is _us_."

"Yes, I know that." She's nodding slowly and looking at him a little like he's crazy. "Hence why I put it in a frame and thought that it added a nice touch."

Danny shakes his head and is having a hard time taking his eyes off the picture. It's in black and white and shows them from the waist up, officiant standing behind them. And they're kissing. It's their wedding photo. "Where the hell did it come from? Did the City Clerk’s Office take this?"

"Oh!" Mindy clicks her tongue. "I keep forgetting you don't remember any of what happened. There are pictures."

"Pictures? As in--"

"A whole camera full, yeah. I had them developed yesterday. I have the rest in my purse, if you want to see them."

That whole day is just a blank spot in his memory, and actually seeing evidence of their _wedding_ \-- it makes this feel less like an abstract fact, and makes it tangible. "Yeah. I want to see them."

Mindy's drying her hands, and he goes to the nearly half-full bottle of wine left on the table, reaching for it and then searching.

"I accidentally broke your wineglass," she admits in a rush, eyes glancing to his.

"Okay."

"You mad?"

Danny frowns at the stupid question. "You didn't cut yourself on the glass, did you?"

"No."

"Of course I'm not mad." He takes a pull straight from the bottle.

She smiles slightly before heading in the direction of his bedroom. "I'll get the rest of the pictures."

As she goes, he wanders to the sofa to sit down, bottle in one hand, photograph in the other. It looks like a legit wedding photo. Whatever light-colored button-down he was wearing that day reads white, and Mindy's wearing a dress, even if it isn't very bridal. There are flowers in her hand. Her head is tipped back and face partially obscured by the back of his head, and while it doesn't look particularly impassioned, the kiss is good. Nothing about it looks like a drunken mistake.

"Here." Mindy materializes in front of him, offering the envelope from the one hour photo place. She takes a seat next to him, her legs drawn under her on the sofa cushion.

Unlike the larger, framed photo, these are in color. The first several are of nothing really. Unfocused shots of a random hallway, a surprisingly happy looking city employee helping them fill out paperwork.

"Where did we even get a camera?"

"Mm, it's part of the whole package they offer there. That cheesy ring, flowers, a disposable camera -- an impressive variety of things to choose from, actually."

"And you thought it was necessary to document our sad, 'giving up' nuptials?"

"No!" she laughs. "That was all you. I know you don't remember any of that afternoon, but that was one hell of a rant you went on."

"Me?" Danny tears his gaze from the photo to Mindy. "Why? A rant about what?"

"I think it's because you got offended when I suggested that we could just take pictures with my phone. Something about not everything should be digital, and no one has photo albums anymore. I stopped listening and gave in when you launched some tangent about the ruination of Eastman Kodak."

Danny shrugs, the memory still not really there, but the feeling of it lingering at the edges of his subconscious. That does sound like him. It's a shame important moments aren't shown the kind of respect they used to be. Instead, occasions are left to wither on someone's hard drive, forgotten about, until the damn thing crashes and all is lost. He isn't sure why he felt like this particular moment deserved this level of documentation.

"Yeah, still don't remember any of that. I _do_ remember being _really_ insistent about something. Was that--"

"Yep, that was it."

"Did we get into a really big fight about it?"

Mindy laughs and he can feel the vibrations of it. "Oh, yeah." She's sitting close to him, leaning over to see the photographs as he sifts through them. Her proximity makes him clear his throat and reach for the wine bottle. "I had actually forgotten all about these until I found the camera under my couch about a month ago," she says. "It must have fallen out of your pants pocket."

Danny groans when he comes to the next picture, and hangs his head. "God, this is so embarrassing."

"Aww. Poor, embarrassed Danny." Mindy presses her cheek into his shoulder and steals the bottle from his grasp. "I'm telling you, she was happy to help. Judge Markaway thinks you're, like, God's gift to gynecology."

"Still," he grumbles. The next picture is even worse. He's embracing the tall, graceful older woman, and he's very grateful he doesn't remember any of this part.

Janet's due for her checkup and mammogram next month, and as unprofessional as it is, Danny thinks he's going to wait until then to ask her to sign her part as the witness on the annulment papers. He just can't face picking up the phone and calling, asking yet another inappropriate favor.

Mindy takes another swig from the bottle and passes it back to him. He's glad, taking a long drink as he comes to the ceremony itself. God, it's weird holding the proof of their situation. It's been so long, and never felt real, but they're _married_. And have been for-- "Hey. Yesterday was our five month anniversary."

"Hm, you're right." She mutters the words, and her voice is getting thick with sleep. "Happy anniversary."

Danny picks up the pace, not knowing what time it is, but thinking maybe it's later than he realized. There's the photo of the kiss again, and he quickly shuffles past. It only serves to make him think of things he shouldn't. Like how at this very moment he knows how she tastes, Mindy's mouth spiced with nutmeg, vanilla, and wine.

The final picture is of Mindy alone, making a duck face, holding up her left hand, and pointing to the trinket on her finger. "Uhh," It's her turn to grumble. "I know it doesn't count, but I always imagined I'd look hella stunning on my wedding day."

"Shut up. You know you're beautiful. Stop digging for compliments."

She only hums a happy sounding reply, and the weight of her is pressing more and more into his side. Glancing across the room, Danny finds the time displayed on the cable box. It's nearly one in the morning.

"Min?" He finally allows his fingers to ghost her knee where it's crooked against his thigh. "It's late."

She draws in a deep breath and straightens a little. "I should go home."

"You don't have to." It's silly how much the idea of her leaving, sleepy, maybe a little tipsy, and this late at night, makes Danny concerned. "I can crash on the couch if you want to stay."

"Thank you." She pats his arm as she slowly unfolds herself and stands. "But I can't. I've got an early morning."

"Come on, I know you're not on call again until Tuesday."

"No, but I've got church in, like, eight hours."

Right. The minister. Somehow Danny keeps forgetting about that guy. The reminder sobers him to an uncomfortable level, that weird, hollow feeling creeping back into his chest. Danny stands too.

"I'll help you with the dishes if you help me gather up all my stuff?" She's swaying on her bare feet, eyes heavy lidded. And she looks adorable.

"All of that can wait. Go home. Get some rest. It wouldn't look good if the preacher's girlfriend starting snoring mid sermon."

That earns him a chuckle and an absent-minded pat on the chest. "M'k. I do need at least my shoes and purse, though."

As soon as she's in his bedroom, out of earshot, Danny calls for a cab. It takes Mindy several minutes, which is good, because the dispatch said there was a car nearby, but it would still be about ten minutes.

Finally she totters out, a single, heavy-looking bag weighing down one shoulder. Her eyes are glassy and tired, but more awake than they were a few minutes ago. "More stuff to grab than I thought. How cute would it be to show up in the morning with zero makeup on?"

Danny swallows down the words assuring her she is just as perfect without her makeup on as she is with it. The line of what is and is not appropriate may have become blurred tonight, but he's self-aware enough to know that's definitely crossing it. Besides, the night's over. No more playing house.

He follows her to the door, and is taken aback when Mindy turns and loops an arm around his neck, hugging him tightly. It doesn't take more than a second for him to hug her back.

"You called me a cab, didn't you?"

The words tickle his neck and he can't help laugh a little. "Yeah."

She steps out of his embrace, and Mindy's eyes are serious. "Thank you, Danny."

"For what? I should be thanking you."

"Mm, that you should. I gave a stellar performance tonight." The words make his heart stutter, wondering how good of an actress she really is. Logically Danny has to accept nothing about tonight was real. "And so you know, I will accept payment in the form of whatever crazy-delicious thing you ever feel like cooking me."

"Deal." He offers his hand and they shake on it, her fingers warm wrapped around his palm.

"I meant, thanks for caring enough to worry about me."

A thought leaps unbidden into his head, and thank the Lord his phone trills before he opens his mouth and says: ‘What man doesn't worry about his wife?’ Instead, he pulls his hand away and looks down at the text. "Car's here."

"Goodnight." She pecks a kiss on his cheek.

Danny misses her before the door even latches.


	12. Stay

******Saturday, July 13th, 2013 - Days Married: 194**  

There is sweat dripping down her back, Danny's methodic, deep breath rushing in Mindy's ears. Her sneakers slap the pavement hard as she pushes herself, and if they don't reach the end of the path soon, she fears her lungs may burst.

He slows next to her, the pace an easy one for him, and after spending the last few weeks training, Mindy knows this is his indication for her to stop. So she does, heart full of gratitude, and slumps, sucking in as much oxygen as possible and bracing her hands on her knees.  

The Plaza is peeking through the canopy of leaves at the end of the park just ahead of them. That's really good. They came in on 72nd Street, taking the long way by Bethesda Fountain, which means they've run in a roundabout way at least 13 blocks, about a mile, in -- "How'd we do?"

"Better. Eleven minutes." It irritates her how he's barely even breathing hard.

"Uh, that's great," she pants. "Please make sure to have that engraved on my headstone."

"Shut up. A month ago you running a nearly ten minute mile would have been impossible." Danny squirts water into his mouth from the CamelBak. "You've shaved nearly five minutes off your time. Engrave _that_ on this _triathlon's_ headstone after you kill it."

"Oh my God, you are such a dork." Mindy finally feels steady enough to stand upright again.

"A dork who's gonna trounce those nurse-stealing charlatans." He smirks.

"Well, that may be true." She takes another deep breath, this time it turning into a groaning yawn.

"Your man of God keep you up too late last night?" he asks, leering, before his brow tightens. "Which I don't understand. How is that not a _major_ sin? He’s a _minister_ for crying out loud! Protestants confuse the hell out of me...."

"Yes, actually. Casey did keep me up too late last night. But not in the fun way you're thinking."

Danny got a hand around his ankle, bending his leg back at the knee, stretching out the muscles. "Trouble in paradise?"

Stretching probably isn't a bad idea. Mindy plants her hands on her hips and sways slightly. "Um. No, actually. I think it may be the opposite."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we got to talking about some things. And it got pretty heavy."

"You guys got into an argument?"

"No. It was a good discussion. Casey was actually asking me my feelings toward converting." She cuts her eyes in Danny's direction, gauging his reaction, waiting for him to be thrilled at the prospect. Instead, she's met with a sharp frown.

"That's a stupid idea. Why would you convert?"

"I thought you'd be pleased at the idea of me switching to your team."

"Lutherans are not my team. We're barely even in the same division. I just don't understand why he would care. Was he pressuring you?" He's starting to look a little angry, and Mindy isn't explaining this correctly.

"It wasn't pressure, or a demand. Casey was just thinking about our future together. He said he'd always envisioned spending the rest of his life with someone who shared his beliefs. I don't know if I'm going to do it, but if we're going to make this work long-term, then it's something I have to at least consider."

"Huh." Danny turns away from her, propping his foot on a park bench and leaning, extending his hamstring.

" _Huh_ what?"

"Nothing. You two are getting pretty serious." She's not sure he means them to, but those last words come out as a question.

"Yeah, I guess we are."

She watches the back of his head bob as he nods. "A little fast, maybe?"

"Mm, I don't know. It _is_ fast, but it doesn't feel _too_ fast. Casey seems to really know what he wants." She shrugs. "And we're good together."

"He treats you right?" Danny's looking at her out of the corner of his eye. The timbre of his voice makes her stomach flutter strangely.

Mindy swallows and nods. "Yeah. He's a good guy."

"Okay. Good." Danny turns to her and she knows what's coming. Mindy shakes out her hands and works toward psyching herself up for the run back, knowing his routine by now.

"You wanna get pancakes?"

The abrupt question takes her completely by surprise. Also, _pancakes_. "What? _Really_?"

"Yeah. You did good today. Lemme buy you breakfast."

The smile that begins radiating from her is so big it nearly hurts. "Oh, hell yes. I knew there was a reason I allowed you to talk me into this whole 'training for a triathlon' business."

"Come on." He hooks his elbow around her neck, propelling her forward as he begins walking.

"Ugh, you're getting my sweat all over you." She futilely tries pulling away.

"I don't mind." And as if she had said the same, he slicks a hand across his forehead then brushes it down her arm, leaving a sopping trail.

"Gross! Danny. That is disgusting." Mindy shoves on him hard, with real purpose this time, and he staggers away from her, a smile crinkling his face.

They're nearly to the exit of the park before he says anything again. "Don't change yourself for anybody, Min."

She turns to look at him, Danny's face carefully neutral. "I wasn't planning on it. What makes you think I would?"

He shrugs and looks away, visibly a little uncomfortable. "Because sometimes I don't think you realize how great you are. The way you are."

"Oh." Mindy wishes her voice didn't sound so small.

** Monday, July 29th, 2013 - Days Married: 210**

He hasn't looked up from his newspaper since he sat down in her office nearly ten minutes ago; and no matter how she tries, Mindy can't think of a good way to start this.

Stilling her hands from where they're poised over her keyboard, this morning's emails too much to focus on, she reaches for her coffee cup and takes a long drink. "So, Danny, there's something I wanted to--"

He thumps the paper hard and it rustles. "I don't trust this de Blasio guy. I mean, what's his deal?"

de Blasio... de Blasio... Mindy's confident she should know who that is. Danny keeps bringing him up. A baseball player maybe? "He having a bad season or something?" she asks hopefully.

"What?" Danny's brow is pulled tight and his eyes are bouncing, side to side, as he reads. "No."

"Good, then. Or not." Guess it all depends on what team he plays for, right? "Danny--"

"Hmm?" He leans forward to pluck his coffee cup off her desk, and never takes his eyes off the paper.

"I wanted to talk to you about something. Could you -- just put the paper down."

The tone of her voice snatches his attention, and Danny does just that. He lays the folded newspaper on the corner of her desk and raises his focused gaze to her.

Shit. Maybe now isn't the time. But when the hell will be a better time? Mindy takes a deep breath and places both hands on the cold, glass top of her desk. "Casey asked me to go to Haiti with him."

In anticipating his reaction, Mindy never considered him biting back a smile and clasping his hands in his lap, a look relaxed and nearly triumphant. "I'm sorry, Min, but it's probably better now than wasting a year waiting for him. How'd he take it?"

It _is_ better than waiting for him for a year. That's what she's thinking, anyway. It isn't like it's going to be easy, but -- yeah. She can do a lot of good in Haiti. It will also be a true litmus test; if she and Casey can make it work and be happy there, then they can make it anywhere. Mindy's not sure she follows his question, though.

"How'd he take what?" The way Danny's face falls suddenly makes his meaning clear.

Oh.

Mindy holds the words on her tongue for a moment, allowing them to soften. "I didn't tell him no."

Danny's nostrils flare, and a sick look crosses his face before it's gone, his features meticulously schooled. "So you're going?" he asks, voice a low rasp. It doesn't matter how well he arranged his face, there's hurt lacing every syllable.

"I don't know. Maybe." She shakes her head and realizes that statement is inaccurately vague. "Probably. I've already started looking at my finances to see if it's doable."

"And?"

"And it is." There's a slurry of hopefulness and apprehension churning up her stomach. Directed toward what, she isn't sure. Mindy swallows and thinks maybe the coffee is giving her heartburn. "What do you think?"

He crosses his arms tightly over his chest in that cocky, aloof way he hasn't done in a while, and leans back. "You don't need my approval to do anything."

It's kind of an asshole thing to say, so intentionally misconstruing the question. But she is hurting him in ways she's unclear, so she curbs the more biting words she'd like to say. "I never said I needed your approval. I don't. However, I wouldn't mind your opinion."

Danny sits up a little, his demeanor changing and eyes softening before looking down at the rug. Slowly he rubs the palms of his hands over his jean-clad legs, his mouth twitching as he thinks. "Is this something you want? Or are you just doing it for him?"

The desire to rush the words is strong, to prove how committed she is to Casey and how _completely fine_ she is with this whole idea. But the point of asking Danny's opinion is to be considerate and think about this pragmatically. So Mindy takes a breath, and tries to collect the most honest words she can. "It's scary. For a bunch of different reasons. Casey and I haven't been together that long. But I do have confidence in him. This is something he's so passionate about, and it makes me feel passionate about it too. And the idea of going to Haiti - of just being out of my comfort zone - is terrifying."

"Yeah." He nods thoughtfully.

"Someone has to though, right? Haiti needs doctors. And if there's ever going to be a time in my life for me to do something like this, it's now."

"Min." His voice is soft and resigned, and somehow that's worse than the hurt. "It sounds like you've already decided."

She hadn't. That's just the list of things she keeps arguing about in her own head. The list of why she shouldn't go is much shorter. It only has two things on it. 1) She doesn't want to go. 2) She's afraid of how much she's going to miss the man seated in front of her.

Mindy won't say either of those things, so she shrugs. "I guess so." All of the breath rushes out of her once it feels like the decision has been made. "I'm going to Haiti..."

"Good for you." He couldn't mean those words any less. "When do you leave?"

"Less than three weeks."

"Right. Well." Danny forces a brightness that is so believable it makes Mindy wonder if any of the things she was reading from him were true. Maybe she was just projecting all of her own feelings... "You should have a proper send-off. I'll throw something together. Something swanky, just like you like it. Get me a list of people who you want me to invite. And don't go overboard, Mindy. I can only get so many people in my apartment."

Quickly, Danny pushes out of the chair, grabbing his cup and paper. He's nearly out the door and she's floundering, one last, very important thing she needs to say. He beats her to it, already a few steps ahead of her. "I'll make sure the annulment papers are ready for you to sign before you go."

** Saturday, August 17th, 2013 - Days Married: 229**

There's a tremor in her hands Mindy just can't shake. It's excitement. Probably.

She's done a shit job of avoiding all of her exes that she inexplicably had Danny invite to her and Casey's going away party. And for his part, Casey is being his highest level of annoyingly chill.

Mindy buries her nose in the Shirley Temple with vodka, and drains the glass. It's only the run-ins with Jamie and those stupid Deslauriers that's putting her on edge. She starts in the direction of the bartender - Danny seriously went all out on this party - and doesn't even make it halfway there before she feels fingers closing around her elbow.

"It's going to be miserable without you, you know." Jeremy's leaning down and his breath is warm in her ear.

Glancing up, she finds his gaze kind and genuine. This is one sort-of-ex Mindy doesn't really mind having to talk to. "That's a very sweet thing to say, Jeremy. I'll miss you too."

"Oh, dear, no. I didn't mean it that way. Not that -- well, of course I'll miss having you 'round."

"You're very bad at giving compliments, you know that?"

"It will be a misery being without your cheer." He's giving her his most charming smile, and she knows it's leading to something she won't like.

"Okay. What gives? What's the matter with me leaving?"

Jeremy drops the charm and is suddenly the man who at one point long ago Mindy thought she could have feelings for. The real, human, flesh and blood man. "It's already hell in the office. I can only imagine how much worse he's going to get once you're _actually_ gone."

Mindy's stomach tumbles, filling in the blanks of everything he isn't saying. "He hasn't seemed any different to me," she whispers.

"Well, of course he wouldn't, Mindy. Brave face and all. You think he's going to be a sad, pitiful arsehole in front of you? A man has his pride."

Without being able to stop it, Mindy's eyes roam the apartment. As if simply seeing Danny from across a crowded room would allow her to divine his secrets.

"He cares very much for you. But I believe you already know that."

Her eyes bounce back to Jeremy, and she has to suck in a deep breath, her lungs feeling a little like they're too small. "I do."

"Good." He nods briskly. "It _is_ going to hell without you here. Don't stay gone forever, yeah?"

She smiles when he leans down and places a lingering kiss on her cheek - still always the flirt. "I won't. Nothing will keep me from coming home."

Jeremy walks on, and as he goes, the room seems to tilt under her. Their entire conversation is ringing in her head. And the tremor has stopped in her hands.

* * *

"Mindy..." 

The voice is muffled, and panic uncurls in her stomach. She should have picked somewhere more secluded to hide. Then the doors push the rest of the way open. It's Danny and she can take a deep breath again.

"Is that the -- what is with you not being able to wait to eat dessert?"

If he's trying to remind her of the night he kissed her, it's working. "Well, it's my cake, so..." The words come out more petulant than she meant them. But screw it. Even if it is all her fault, right now she's going to allow herself to be petulant.

Danny slides the bedroom doors together quietly, and sits down on the floor next to her. He's so close she can smell his soap and fabric softener, and it makes her want to bury her head in his shoulder and not look up until this nightmare is over.

He steals the fork from her fingers, and she's about to go on a holy terror of a rant when he asks her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lies. Before he can call bullshit on her, she reconsiders. There's no reason to keep this from Danny of all people. "I don't know about this."

The hand holding the forkful of cake falters halfway to his mouth. Something sparks in his eyes before extinguishing. Taking the bite, he slides the tines from his still-closed mouth, a little bit of blue frosting tinting his lips. He swallows, then asks in a deliberately neutral tone, "Are you having second thoughts?"

Mindy nods her head, words deserting her and stupid fucking tears stinging her eyes.

"Hey." In one quick motion Danny moves the sheet cake from her lap, placing it on the floor next to them, and takes her right hand in both of his. "If you don't want to do this, you don't have to."

"I know that." She blinks hard, the tears staying at bay and the fervent feeling of his hands wrapped warmly around hers making her brave enough to finally say the words that have been lying just beneath the surface for nearly a month. "I don't want to go."

"Then don't!" he exclaims. Then quieter, in a voice so pleading, "Mindy, please don't go. I don't want you to go."

A hysterical laugh leaps out of her chest before she can stop it, this whole thing such an unmitigated disaster. "Why didn't you tell me that before?! I asked you!"

"No, Mindy, you didn't. You asked me what I thought you should do. You didn't ask me what I _wanted you_ to do."

"Semantics."

"Not semantics."

"How do you figure?" The tears are back in her eyes, and there's a completely irrational part of her that wants to be mad at him from not speaking his mind, saving her from all this.

"Because." He sighs heavily. "You asked me my opinion. And my opinion is, and always will be, I want you to do whatever makes you happy. Even if that means you leaving."

"Danny, that's -- that's sweet. But I wanted to know how _you felt_ about it. You didn't have to shut down and get all weird and stoic. Did it ever occur to you I needed your input?"

"Honestly?" His eyes lift from where they were trained on their joined hands. "No. But what more could I have said? Mindy, I had no right to ask you to stay."

She wants to rage against that. Because yes, he does. If not Danny, then who? It's too much and she knows she shouldn't say it, especially right now, but she can't keep from it. "You could have asked me to stay."

That draws a mirthless chuckle from him, eyebrows pulled up toward his hairline. "Believe me, I wanted to."

The hold he has on her drops away when she pulls her hands up to bury her head in her palms. Mumbling with her face smushed, she asks, "What the hell am I going to do now?"

"Tell him how you feel. And yeah, sure, it's going to suck. But not nearly as bad as having to go to _Haiti_ for a year."

That's true. Mindy just needs to bite the bullet and get this over with. There's one important detail that may be a little unclear which feels necessary to share. "I won't go to Haiti. But I don't necessarily know if that means I want to breakup with Casey..."

There's a tic in his jaw when she says the other man's name, and it looks so much like jealousy it makes Mindy's pulse speed up. "If he loves you, he'll understand and do whatever he has to to make it work."

"Okay." She lets those words wash over her and takes a deep breath. He's right. She just needs to be honest with Casey and let the chips fall where they may. It's all she _can_ do.

"That's very good advice, Danny." She pokes his chest, finding twisted humor in the situation now that she can feel the shackles of this decision loosening. "This is exactly why you should give me all of your opinion when I ask you questions."

"I'll work on it." He holds his hands up in surrender. "If you'll promise to work on being more gracious when I give it."

"Wow. Way to ruin me giving you a compliment." Pushing first up onto her knees, she stands. Danny follows suit. If she's going to do this, she thinks, brushing a hand down her deep-emerald green skirt, she needs to do it now before her resolve dies.

"Listen." He grabs her wrist, stopping her before she can make it to the door and get this over with. "I don't think I ever said it back to you."

Mindy can feel her eyes widen as she racks her brain for what it is she said to him that garners him saying it back.

"You know you're my best friend, right? And there's no tier. There's only one person on the list, and it's you."

The wind knocks out of his lungs in a whoosh when she throws her arms tightly around his neck.

She knew. But it's nice to hear him say it.

* * *

She isn't honest with Casey. Of course she isn't. There is such a thing as self-preservation. It doesn't take a savant to figure out how a conversation that starts with, _"So, I know we're supposed to be leaving in three days and I've been assuring you for a_ month _I'm_ super _stoked about going to Haiti with you, but..."_ ends. 

Yeah. Mindy's not an idiot. So she goes with the most plausible, man-terrifying lie she can conjure.

It's around the time he drops to one knee when Mindy remembers her plans never, ever work out well. Casey is gently grasping the fingers of her left hand, and is speaking words she has always wanted to hear.

He says the words, "Mindy, will you marry me?" and her heart seizes in her chest. And not in the good way. It feels like being sucker-punched, and she can’t stare into those hopeful blue eyes any longer.

When Mindy looks up she can see only one person. The rest of the room may as well be deserted. Danny has a dark, unreadable expression on his face, holding her gaze for no longer than two seconds before looking away.

She tugs her fingers from Casey and tells him no. She won't marry him.

She _can't_ marry him.

Mindy already has a husband.


	13. Sabbatical

**Sunday, August 18th, 2013 - Days Married: 230**

Her phone pings for what has to be the fifth time, and if Mindy doesn't send a reply soon she knows he's going to call. Or just show up at her apartment, which would be even worse.

Scanning the messages again, she can't seem to find the right words to send back.

**How you doing today, kiddo?  
** **From: Danny 10:41am**

**I skipped Mass this morning.**  
 **Obviously. Don't have anything**  
 **going on today.  
** **From: Danny 11:13am**

**You want me to come over? We**  
 **can watch whatever weepy movie**  
 **you want. I'll even bring Thai food**  
 **from that place I don't like.  
** **From: Danny 11:13am**

**Hope you're doing okay.  
** **From: Danny 11:40am**

**Min? You're never more than a**  
 **foot away from your phone... Should**  
 **I start getting worried?  
** **From: Danny 12:21pm**

At 11:13 she had typed:

**Yes! Order me the left side of the  
** **menu and don't dally.**

Then Mindy stared at those words for nearly five minutes before tapping backspace with every letter, erasing her enthusiasm slowly.

It isn't that she doesn't want Danny to come over. It's how goddamned badly she wants him here. How improbably she misses him, having only left his side a mere seven hours ago after the triplet delivery.

Mindy clutches her phone tighter and rubs her index finger around the rim of her coffee mug. It's gone cold. Despite having been up for hours (sleep had not been her friend) she's still wearing her pajamas, her body curled as tightly as possible into one end of her sofa.

Every once in a while the details of the situation she's put herself in poke through her distracted thoughts, and there is a lot she needs to take care of. Like undoing all of the automatic bank drafts she'd scheduled, and the mail she was having forwarded. At some point she probably needs to go through her apartment and gather Casey's things. Soon too, if she wants to give them back before he leaves for Haiti.

Those things are in a losing battle with what's consuming her mind. With _who_ is consuming her mind.

And that is precisely why Danny cannot come over. Finally she types out:

**Sorry. I was in the bath**

Nope! She backspaces quickly.

**Sorry. I had my phone turned off. I'm doing**  
 **okay. Thanks for the offer. (Especially since**  
 **I know how much you hate that Thai place.)**  
 **I think I need to take some time. Think about**  
 **where I go from here. I'll see you tomorrow.  
** **To: Danny - 12:29pm**

The moment Mindy hits the send button, her phone begins ringing loudly, nearly making her drop it. Clearly she took too long to reply, Mindy thinks, before seeing the name on the caller ID. Oh. Not Danny. She thinks for a long moment, almost to the point where it is about to go to voicemail, before answering.

"Hey. I was wondering when I'd hear from you."

"I know, I know. I'm sooo sorry. I've been meaning to call you since I got your email the other day," Gwen says.

It wasn't the 'other day,' she wants to reply. It's been two weeks since Mindy emailed all of her friends to tell them about her plans to go to Haiti for a year. She'd heard back from all of them - including Maggie's very brief reply of, ‘You're insane. Have fun.’ from wherever the hell she is at the moment. New Guinea maybe? Mindy takes a breath and remembers that with Gwen, sometimes one of them has to be extra gracious if they don't want the conversation to end in a fight. Now is one of those times. "It's fine. I know you've been busy. How's Colorado?"

"Oh, it's beautiful! The mountains are gorgeous and Riley has already made friends with a girl in our neighborhood who's in her same grade."

"That's great." It isn't forced graciousness when she says it. Mindy is truly happy for her friend, even if it means they're 2,000 miles apart.

"I can't wait for you to come visit! Although, I guess I'll _have_ to wait for you to come visit. Haiti! I can't believe it. You're doing an amazing thing, Mindy.”

She takes deep breath and really hopes Gwen will cut her some slack, even if she doesn't necessarily deserve it. "I may actually be able to come visit sooner than you think. I'm not going to Haiti."

"Okaaay." She takes a moment then continues gently. "Tell me what happened."

"Well, the condensed version is it wasn't right and Casey and I broke up last night. At our Bon Voyage party. In front of everybody. After he proposed."

Gwen sucks in a deep breath. "Wow. Are you okay?"

"Me?" Mindy can't help but laugh, and it sounds wrong in her ears. "Yeah. I'm fine. I don't like that I hurt Casey, though. He deserves better than that. Better than me."

"Hey. Don't say that. You're an amazing woman, Mindy."

"Thanks," she says, blinking hard.

"Actually, if I'm being honest, I'm glad you two broke up."

"I thought you liked Casey." Mindy draws the mug to her lips reflexively before remembering the coffee's cold and pushing it away.

"I did like Casey. Granted, I only met him the one time, but he seemed alright. And you seemed to like him."

"Okay. So why are you happy we broke up then?"

"Because, Mindy, I have spoken to you three times since the move, and every time we've talked, Casey isn't who you talk about."

"Oh."

"Listen, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, or be overbearing - because yeah, I am fully aware that I do that. All I'm saying is, maybe now you can seriously start to consider it."

Clearly Mindy knows exactly what she's talking about, but she needs to hear Gwen say it. To make it real other than just something hopeful and terrifying in her own mind. "Consider what?"

She scoffs. "You know what. If it were anyone else you two would have been annulled before Valentine's Day. Isn't it time to consider that you have very real feelings for Danny?"

Yep, hearing it aloud sends a tremor of excitement zipping through her body. Mindy has been thinking about it. Ever since the moment last night when she looked up and met Danny's eyes and realized she couldn't go, that she wouldn't be able to leave him, there was no denying it anymore. She has been unable to think of anything else since.

There is no denying she has feelings for Danny. The question now is, what is Mindy going to do about it?

**Tuesday, August 20th, 2013 - Days Married: 232**

It takes longer than she thought it would; it's nearly ten o'clock. His knuckle taps quickly on the doorframe, Danny not waiting for a reply before pushing the door open. "Hey. Missed you yesterday."

She can almost see him bite off the words ‘how are you’ from the end of the sentence. Mindy appreciates him knowing her well enough not to keep asking a question that will make her dwell on the situation.

"Yeah," she forces a smile on her face and tries to ignore the way her stomach plummets excitedly simply at the sight of him leaning in her doorway. "There was a lot more to do - or, undo really - than I realized. Figured it would be smart just to take yesterday and get it all done at once."

"That's smart. You get it all taken care of?"

There's a cardboard box in the entryway of her apartment that will hopefully be gone, Casey's spare key on her kitchen counter, when she returns home. Save for that, everything is done. She summarizes. "Yep. All done."

"Good." Danny doesn't move, simply staring at her for a long moment, as if he's trying to read her mind or gauge her mood. Finally he says, "You wanna grab lunch today? My treat."

She does. Mindy wants to go to lunch with him and spill her heart out about how fucking confused she is. To talk through all of these crazy feelings she's having and what the hell she should do about them. She needs her best friend. But what can she do when the friend she needs for support, and the guy she likes who she needs advice about, are one in the same?

"Thanks, Danny. That's thoughtful of you. You're always thoughtful--" Mindy shuts that train of thought down as quickly as she can or else she'll lose her resolve. "Just -- Not today, okay? I think I need a few days. I don't feel like my head is screwed on straight, and as much as you know I hate being alone, I think maybe that's what I need to. ." She swallows hard, hating how thick the words are coming out. "To figure out just exactly what it is I want."

Danny's eyes are regarding her so, so softly, and he seriously needs to stop looking at her like that. "Believe me, I get it. Take your time. As a matter of fact, do you think you should be here at all today? I know he's a tyrant about 'em, but I can always strong-arm Jeremy into giving you those heartache days."

Muffled far on the other side of the door she hears Jeremy's indignant, "Hey!" It turns Danny's head, peeking across reception, and it does something to ease the tightness in her chest.

When he turns back around Danny’s got a grin on one side of his face and she once again has the reins of her control back in hand. "No, it's fine. The distraction of work will be nice. Just, no thinking or talking about all this for a while." She doesn't phrase it as such, but Mindy is fairly confident Danny can hear the plea within that statement.

"Of course. You know where to find me."

** Thursday, September 19th, 2013 - Days Married: 262 **

"Hey." His voice, rough and worn, startles her. Mindy may have been dozing.

"Hey."

"You look like hell."

She shifts into a near sitting position on the doctors' lounge sofa and attempts to run a hand through her matted hair. She grumbles, "Thanks."

Danny walks around the couch, a glistening can of soda in each hand. He extends the Diet Coke to her, and Mindy takes it happily, having actually been craving one for about twenty minutes, her body too weary to walk even the three steps to the machine behind her. "Thank you," she says, this time with genuine gratitude.

Instead of choosing the free chair or the very end of the piece of furniture where she's laying, Danny lifts up her crossed ankles and slips underneath them, sitting in the very middle with her feet in his lap. "So I hear you've had quite the day, huh."

"Mm," she takes a long pull from the can, the too-sweet cola burns down her throat in the most refreshing way. "Called in with a patient delivering three weeks early at 4:15 this morning. And yes," she holds up a hand stopping the question she knows he's thinking, "I called a car."

"I didn’t say anything." Danny grins anyway.

She pushes her body back, a little lower into the cushions. "Then a scheduled inducement at 2:00, and an emergency C-section at 6.... something."

Mindy's eyelids are feeling heavy just talking about it. She hasn't felt this drained in years. Maybe since her residency. And it's good. Like a deeply cleansing, _this is the hardest work I've ever done and I couldn't be happier to be this wrecked_ , good. There's a single-mindedness that is making her feel powerful.

Or maybe she's just so sleep deprived and it's been so long since she's had a conversation with someone that hasn't included the word 'cervix' that it's giving her this weird fantasy of being some kind of Beyonce/modern-day-Hippocrates hybrid superwoman. Either way, it's oddly invigorating.

"You've really been taking this 'working through some things' literally." Danny's voice is so low, and it's pleasant. Soothing. So soothing she isn't 100% sure she heard everything he said.

"Mm-hmm."

She registers the can being pulled from her loose grasp, followed by the cool, slightly damp press of Danny's thumb through her sock against the sole of her foot. He's applying just the right amount of pressure up the arch that she sighs. Hopefully quietly, but she's in no state to know. Or to care for that matter.

Right now Mindy is sinking, boneless, down, down, until sleep claims her.

** Monday, October 21st, 2013 - Days Married: 294 **

"Hold the elevator!" She sees a familiar hand bar the door just long enough for her to slip through. Mindy's glasses nearly slide off her face and she's breathless. "Thanks."

"You okay?" Danny's got the beginnings of a smile twitching at his lips, but as she looks further up, Mindy sees there's nothing but barely guarded concern in his dark eyes.

She drops the bag of dirty clothes she'd somehow collected in the office the last few weeks to the floor, a rote 'yes' already on her lips. Only she isn't okay. "No, actually!"

Danny flinches a little at her exaggerated fervor, yet it washes some of the seriousness from his gaze. "Oh yeah?"

"What the hell is his problem, Danny?" She turns so she can fully face him, this wrath that's been bubbling for weeks now finally overflowing. "Honestly, I don't know why you allowed Jeremy hire him. Have either of you actually seen his credentials? Because medical school online is only a thing if you're a dentist. And the patients clearly hate him. I mean, they'd have to. Would you want to have _your_ baby delivered by some ‘ _dude_ ,’" she punctuates the word with air quotes, "in a fraternity sweatshirt who probably has at least one STD? No. I didn't think so.

"You done?"

"I think we should fire him."

"Okay, now you're done. We are not going to fire Peter." Danny waits for her to step off the elevator into the lobby first.

"Why not? You don't like him either." She's whining and doesn't even care. All Mindy did was pull double shifts for a few weeks at the hospital, and sure, was out of the loop at the office for a while - then BAM! This jackass is practically catching babies in a baseball mitt, all under the good name of Shulman & Associates.

The air is refreshing when they step out into the late afternoon twilight, and Danny finally replies. "I never said I didn't like him."

Mindy raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. "You never _said_ you didn't like him, but...."

"Okay. I didn't like him at first. But at least I don't hate him anymore. And you're wrong about him. Peter isn't a terrible doctor. He may be kinda terrible in a LOT of ways. But being a doctor isn't one of them."

Mindy sighs, registering that she's keeping stride with Danny on the sidewalk despite the fact that he's walking uptown for some reason and she needs to go the other direction. The bag full of laundry isn't going to drop itself off at her dry cleaners. "Fine."

"So why are you really mad?" He stops suddenly, turning to face her.

It's so stupid. Regardless, she's bursting with unreasonable anger. "Because! Why doesn't he like me?!"

"Are you kidding me? Is that all?" Before Danny starts walking again he grabs the bag's strap from her shoulder and transfers the weight of it to his.

"Isn't that enough? Everyone likes me."

"Everyone who's ever gotten the chance to know you, maybe. What reason does Peter have to like you? You call him a jackass to his face all the time--"

"I HAVE _NEVER_ \--"

"I was in the breakroom this morning, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

"And past that, I've never seen you even talk to him."

It's Mindy's turn to stop. "You're right." She nods decisively.

"Really? Because that seems way too easy..."

"I just need to talk to him and tell him to get over himself and stop being a dick so we can be friends."

"That's not what I said at all, actually."

Is it not? Because that is exactly what she heard. Doesn't matter. It's a good plan, even if it wasn't Danny's. There's a dormant impulse to kiss his cheek for the thoughtfully given advice. Mindy keeps it in check, along with the list of other things she does to restrain herself when it comes to him these days. "Thank you anyway. I think I just need to have a heart to heart with ol' Pete."

"Just -- Maybe don't lead by calling him a dickhead is all I'm saying."

"I'll remember that." She nods with a smile. They're standing still, their directions at cross-purposes, and Mindy has to force herself not to keep walking his way. "I'm actually headed back downtown."

"Right. Of course." His eyes dim a little, and it makes Mindy sad in a bone-deep place she wasn't aware could even feel emotion. She's doing this to them, and she isn't even sure what _this_ is. Only that she needs to stop it.

Mindy somewhat meekly gestures to the bag he's carrying, and Danny hands it back over. Pushing as much hopefulness into her voice, she says, "See you tomorrow."

She doesn't risk a glance behind her as she walks away. But Mindy would swear she can feel him watching her until she's out of sight.

**Tuesday, October 22nd, 2013 - Days Married: 295**

He doesn't bother looking up when Mindy knocks firmly on the casing of the open door to Peter's office. "I don't care what Morgan said he saw, I wasn't the one who left the deuce in the already stopped up toilet in the men's room."

"Gross. Peter, that is disgusting." Mindy's face contorts in very real horror. "And you basically just admitted it was you by leading with that statement. You understand that, right?"

"Oh." Peter finally lifts his crystal blue eyes to her, and takes a bite out of the apple in his hand before muttering around it. "I figured you were Jeremy. It's been like two hours. Assigning blame takes forever around here. Almost makes me want to just confess so I don't have to keep thinking about it."

He goes back to scrolling through something on his laptop, completely ignoring Mindy's presence. She gives him a minute, thinking some latent manners will surface and he'll acknowledge her. After minute two, she breaks and launches into her speech.

"Peter, I think it's time we had a discussion about the lack of effort and friendly connection between office-mates."

" _Huh?_ "

"Why don't you like me, Peter? Everybody likes me!" So much for being subtle and sticking with her speech.

"Well. You come into my office and scream at me for things I don't understand, for starters."

Mindy shifts her weight and crosses her arms over her chest. "I suppose that point is fair. I'll try not to do that anymore. Or at least do it less. But there are other things we need to work on."

She takes a step advancing toward his desk, and there is an offensive amount of annoyed confusion in Peter's gaze. "What _things_? Mindy -- and you can tell me the truth -- are you high right now?"

"No, I am not _high_. What is so crazy about me wanting us to be friends?"

"Ohhhh, is _that_ what this is?" Peter pushes back in his chair and appears for the first time to be participating in the conversation. "Yeah, you and I aren't going to be friends. I wish you'd've lead with that. Could've saved us both a lot of time."

She thinks she may be able to feel her own blood pressure rising at his dick-ish brushoff, and if she weren't so determined to beat him into submission, Mindy would storm out. Instead, she takes the chair across from Peter. He leans forward again, dropping his hands and looking a little bit more appropriately unnerved.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Peter. But we will be friends. I'm friends with everyone I work with, and there really is no other option. My suggestion would be to think of some topics of conversation we both might enjoy, and go from there. Because this is happening whether you like it or not."

"That's not true," he says, brow pulled tight. And maybe they can't be friends. She was kidding about the online medical degree before, but this dude does NOT seem very bright.

"It is. So suck it up, pal. You and I are going to be friends if we both hate every moment of it."

"No. It's not true that you're friends with everyone you work with. So you can't just single me out. It’s discrimination. Go harass someone else who's been here longer than me."

"Like who? And don't say the cleaning crew. Because they're subcontractors so technically they don't count. Plus Hector is mean to me - he thinks I don't know what 'perra gorda' means, but I've looked it up and it is _not_ nice - and I've asked Doris to hangout before and she never will."

"Forget them. You're not even friends with the other partners here. Although, I totally get why that is about Jeremy. Since you guys used to be--" he makes a fist-pounding motion in her direction "--doing it super hard a while back. It's hard to be friends with a hook-up you fall for. Or so I've been told."

" _Where did you hear that_? And I _never_ \- - Jeremy told you I was in love with him, didn't he? Damn it. I'm going to have to have a talk with him next."

"Hey man, better him than me. Why don't you go ahead and take care of that." He slinks down in front of the computer screen again, his voice trailing off.

"Nope. I don't think so. We're not done here. I am still very much friends with Jeremy, and, for the record, I was NEVER in love with him. And what about Danny? Danny's my best friend. So who else do you think I need to win over before you just relent?"

"No he's not." Peter's voice is weirdly muted and he really does looked confused now. It makes something in Mindy begin to get nervous.

"No _who's_ not? Not _what_?"

"You and Danny aren't best friends."

"Why would you even say that, Peter? Yes, we are!" Mindy's out of the chair and onto her feet in a flash, feeling a little nauseated and kinda like she needs to pace.

He's looking at her like she's a caged animal, Peter's open palms raised in the air as if to surrender. "Look. I'm just calling it like I see it. I've been here nearly two months and I don't think I've seen you say two words to the dude. I'm sorry if you two are secret BFF's and I was supposed to somehow psychically know that. Can I get back to eating my lunch and watching my . . the internet now?"

Mindy storms to the door, Danny's name on her lips to call him in here and set stupid Peter straight. Then her knees wobble and she thinks she really could throw up.

Jesus, she's an idiot. More of an idiot than the man sitting at the desk behind her. How did she let _months_ pass pushing Danny so far away that people who saw them every day couldn't even tell they were friends?

She forces the words out, even though she knows he won't understand. But she is grateful. "Thank you, Peter. You're right. There are other, much more important friendships in this office that require my attention."

"Huh? Oh. You're still here?" He doesn't look up.

Mindy slams his door when she leaves.

* * *

  
"Danny." She doesn't bother knocking.

"Hey." His eyes linger on the paper in front of him as he finishes jotting something down.

Danny looks up, all warm brown eyes, and Mindy remembers why this has been so hard. There are butterflies in her stomach just from that one look. Screw it, though. The feelings aren't going away. And she has no idea what to do with them, but she sure as hell knows she's not going to let them keep her best friend at arms length anymore. "You wanna get lunch?"

His entire face lifts into what one couldn't even classify as a smile; it’s more like a brightening of every single feature.

"Yeah." Danny stands, grabbing his jacket. When he does, Mindy sees the nearly finished sandwich partially obscured in wax paper on his desk. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't care," she says, quickly averting her eyes so he won't see that she's noticed. "As long as they serve tots.

"Sounds good to me." His hand brushes the curve at the small of her back as he ushers her out the door. "I'm starving."


	14. The Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand: Part One

** Thursday, November 21st, 2013 - Days Married: 325 **

"Where all'd you look?"

"I told you," she whines dramatically. "Everywhere."

"Well, clearly not everywhere or else you would have found it." The glare Mindy shoots at him is piercing. He hastily adds, "It'll turn up."

"Or it won't turn up because I was robbed and now I'm homeless."

"Okay," Danny waves a hand at her, because glare or no glare, he's shutting this down. "You did not get robbed, you misplaced your handbag--"

" _Handbag?_ "

"--and you are not homeless just because you don't have your keys. You’ll stay with me tonight and tomorrow your  _purse_  will either be found, or we can call the cops to put an APB out on it." Danny can't keep the pleased grin starting to form at his own lame joke, expecting a groan or at the very least an eye roll from her.

That isn't the response he gets, though. Mindy is quickly averting her eyes, her face becoming shielded behind her hair. "Nah, that's okay. I'll just crash in the on-call room."

"What? Don't be stupid." He pushes on her shoulder to bring her attention back. "You'll stay at my place. I'll even be nice to you and let you sleep in my bed." Mindy eyes go huge, a rosy hue creeping into her cheeks. Quickly he replays the words back in his head and sees the mistake. He may be blushing too now. "I mean I'll sleep on the sofa."

She fidgets a little with the end of her sweater, and he feels like an idiot. They'd been doing really well this last month going back to being easy friends again. The distance she felt she must have needed from him finally put to rest. And here he goes sticking his foot in his mouth, making her uncomfortable. "If you'd rather not..."

"No. No, that's kind of you. I -- yeah. Okay." Her voice is muted, resigned, and it makes the hairs on Danny's neck raise the slightest bit. Whatever her hesitancy is, it's real and it is not a flattering feeling to have directed toward him. They've never had trouble spending time together, hell sharing a bed together even, and he's done nothing to earn this awkwardness.

Danny's spent months trying to be the very best possible friend to Mindy he could be, even when that meant painfully keeping his distance. Apparently it wasn't enough.

They finish at the nurses' station and collect their coats. As they step through the hospital doors onto the sidewalk, Danny places his hand firmly against the small of her back and does not take it away.

* * *

Surely it's all his fault, but it happened in such a bizarre blur of truth and lies, Danny isn't sure how he, Mindy, and Amy end up in the elevator together talking about his and Mindy's wedding. However, he is certain Mindy is the one who suggests Amy  _'stop to have a drink at our place so I can get to know my husband's old flame better.'_

There is no real reason Danny can figure as to why the situation should make him nervous. Yet when he begins pouring the three glasses of red wine, he notices a tremor in his hand. This is going to end badly. He just can’t figure out how or why.

"Wow. So he just swept you off your feet and insisted on going to the courthouse right then?" Amy's eyes are wide and a little wet, and somehow there's still a sweetly-awed smile on her lips.

"Yep. Just like that. When Danny knows what he wants he just takes it, ya know. He said he couldn't wait another moment to make me his wife. And he didn't even know about the baby yet!" Mindy crows.

The words stop Danny mid-stride on his way back to the table. At the hesitation Mindy has the good graces to at least shoot him a somewhat apologetic look.

It feels the tiniest bit like she's fucking with him at this point, and he isn't sure what it is exactly he did to deserve it. All he knows is that with Mindy's knowledge of some of his more guarded secrets, she knows just where to find the tenderest bit of flesh to mangle.

"A baby! That's -- just --  _Congratulations!_ " When he gets close enough to hand Amy her glass the fractures in her smile become more noticeable.

" _Thank you_ ," Mindy replies brightly. It suddenly reminds Danny too much of years past, of the times and all the reasons he didn't like her in the beginning. How she can lie without even realizing she's doing it, and how make-believe sweetness comes so easily.

Danny places the tall glass of her favorite Malbec in front of Mindy, and it takes him a moment to understand her pointed look. Oh right. The  _baby_. "Forgot." He tips the stemware up and pours its contents into his own glass before sitting down and taking a very long drink.

"I'm sorry." Amy finally breaks the silence that had been forming. "I hate to be the one to point this out, but I mentioned when it was Danny and I were seeing each other. And judging by how long you two have been married, and how far along you  _clearly_  are -- doesn't it bother you that your husband was still seeing me while he was with you and you were already pregnant?"

Mindy's mouth presses into a thin line. She's a great actress. If Danny didn't know any better he'd believe this was real and she was truly pissed. "Yes. Well." Her eyes are stormy when they flick to him, then back to Amy. "No marriage is perfect."

"Yeah. I guess. That's very mature of you..."

The glass of wine is nearly to Amy's lips when Mindy reaches across the table and pulls it from her fingers. "I'm sorry. I think this maybe wasn't the best idea. I'm pretty tired, ya know, from being  _soooo_  pregnant. I think you should go."

His neighbor looks at Danny with surprised eyes, like he's somehow supposed to intervene, and he can do nothing but shake his head and take another drink.

"Right. Of course you're right." The woman stands and Mindy is quick to follow suit and lead her out. "It was nice meeting you." Danny thinks he can hear Amy offering congratulations one more time before the door to his apartment shuts with a hard rattle.

The noise jars his nerves and Danny’s eyes flinch shut at the sound. When he reopens them all he can see is the thin, baby blue clad sheets of 8 ½ x 14 paperwork on the coffee table he’d been staring at all the night before. Quickly he goes to snatch it up, folding it back into thirds and thrusting it into a drawer by the time Mindy slowly walks the few steps back into the room.

She has drained nearly half of the wine in the glass she's still holding of Amy's, and it’s impossible for him to hold his tongue any longer.

"You're unbelievable!" They say it in unison, neither beating the other to the punch.

Danny cannot push his indignant curiosity aside long enough to follow through with his own thought. "Me? How am  _I_  the one who's unbelievable right now?"

Mindy huffs at him, like the answer is so obvious it's beneath her to deign a response. "Hooking up with some rando from your building - who isn't even all that cute, by the way, and clearly has terrible eyesight - is so cliche. I thought you were better than that, Danny."

"Excuse me? Who I ' _hook up_ ' with is none of your business, first of all. And how is having a physical relationship with another consenting adult who just happens to live in my building make me cliche?"

"Because it just  _is_! Okay? You're in your 40's for God's sake, and-"

"I'm 39, and you know it!"

"-it's a little gross that you're still relying on booty calls."

This is exactly why it's been easier to just not get close to people. Somehow in the allure of having a best friend with whom he can share things, he forgot that also means they can hurt you so much easier too. Danny swallows down the desire to lash out, to point out all of the phenomenally stupid relationship choices she herself has made. He doesn't.

"Thank you for that unsolicited relationship advice, Min. Next time I'll remember to run all women I'm interested in sleeping with by you first."

The way her jaw clenches and nostrils flare is oddly gratifying. "Whatever. I'm going to bed." She turns on her heel, grabbing the still half-full bottle of wine from the counter before disappearing into his bedroom.

If he were keeping score, Danny would mark this argument down as a win in his column. It feels nothing like victory.

* * *

The worst thing about sliding doors is the fact that you can't slam them. Not really. The best Mindy is able to muster from them is a dull smacking sound that makes them bounce apart again slightly. It's better than nothing though.

There are tears stinging the back of her eyes, and those piss her off too. They're the kind of tears you can never explain to a man. The kind that make a perfectly sane woman look hysterical, when in reality they're a warning shot. Those burning-hot tears of indignant anger are a signal to duck and cover.

It’s rage, and she's full of it to the brim. So much so it is threatening to spill out of her eyes. Mindy’s hand is shaking as she takes another gulp of wine. He's such an idiot.

No. He’s a man. Mindy isn’t entirely sure why she thought Danny Castellano would be any different than every other man she’s known. For some reason she just assumed. Of course an easy lay is the best possible scenario. No commitment. He doesn’t have to change his uptight ways or make room in his life.

It should have been obvious to her before this moment. She’s seen him pick up random women in bars for hook-ups. The one quasi-adult relationship he’s ever had since she’s known him was with Eyepatch - or Jillian, whatever - and that was over nearly as soon as it began. All because Danny isn’t equipped to make room in his life for someone else.

She takes another long gulp of wine, and lets it wash down some of her anger. It shouldn’t matter, and Mindy can appreciate that it isn’t her place to be livid about the way he chooses to live his life. It’s just -- she expected better. Danny was going to be that one guy who would defy the stereotype. Turns out he has feet of clay, just like everyone else.

Mindy places the bottle and glass on the nightstand, careful to make sure she uses a coaster for each, and walks to the chest of drawers. Curling her fingers under the antiqued metal pull, Mindy finds his T-shirt drawer on the first try. It takes a while checking the tags to find one that won’t be snug.

Tugging it from the bottom of the stack, she shakes a worn, navy-colored cotton shirt out in front of her. Surprisingly, it’s a womens size L with tiny white hearts dotted all over it.

It’s  _hers_.

She drops it to the floor before jerking open another drawer. Tucked in with his underwear are the shorts that make up the pajama set.

In one step she’s at his closet door, pushing his crisply-starched dress shirts aside to find what she already knew she’d find in the back. It’s the cardigan she’d actually been looking for ever since the season changed, along with a few dresses that either don’t fit or she decided she didn’t really like.

It’s all the clothes she hung there months ago.

At this point it isn’t really necessary, but strictly out of stomach-churning curiosity she goes into the bathroom. It’s all still there: her bottle of Midol in the medicine cabinet, pack of makeup removal wipes in the drawer, and there, lying untouched along side his, is Mindy’s toothbrush.

What the  _fuck_?

She’d forgotten every one of the effects carefully strewn through his apartment before she ever got in the cab that night. There were a million other things swirling in her head after having dinner with Danny’s ex-wife. Like him kissing her.

But Danny?

Every day he’s had to live with her things filling all the empty spaces in his home. And never once has he said anything or simply thrown the cheap, free-sample toothbrush from her dentist away.  _For six months_.

Her feet are moving before her brain even begins to catch up.

It turns out you  _can_  actually slam sliding doors when you open them, metal against metal booming at the end of the track. Danny nearly leaps off the couch at the sound.

“Why not me?”

He’s scrambling to pull the throw-blanket over his crotch, Danny suddenly modest in only a T-shirt and boxer-briefs, and she isn’t sure he even registered the question. Finally his eyes meet hers. “What?”

Mindy knows she should probably be more articulate, but she’s also starting to realize what she’s doing. There’s no going back from this train of thought. She’s opened her mouth and now they’re going to be forced to talk about it. Finally.

“Why with --” she waves her hand toward the front door in lieu of saying Amy’s name “-- and not with me?”

He’s shaking his head, eyes a little frantic, and he can only muster the same syllable over and over. “I - I -”

“Did you think I wouldn’t be interested in casual sex? Because I feel like my record speaks for itself, buddy.” Her throat constricts as she swallows, her mouth dry as a desert, even as her hands fly. “I  _slay_  guys, okay? I’m no prude. And it’s been months,  _months_  since Casey and I broke up. You don’t think I have needs too? We - we could have helped each other out here.”

“I - I didn’t…”

“Jesus, Danny. Just spit it out. Did it never occur to you?”

“No!” He bolts up from the sofa, the blanket tumbling to the floor when he does, and the fervor of his rejection makes Mindy take an involuntary step back. Quickly she sticks her chest out and places her hands firmly on her hips. She refuses for him to get the better of her.

“‘ _Hooking up_ ’ with you never occurred to me. And even if it had, when was that supposed to happen? In the three months I basically never saw you?”

The words sting more than she should let them. It was her choice to take some time to sort out her feelings. Little good that did. “You still saw me almost every day. You could have said something.”

“Come on, Mindy. You made it very clear you wanted me to keep my distance.” His voice is bitter and more than a little hurt.

Mindy’s hands slide from her hips in futile exasperation. Because, yeah, that is what she projected. But it isn’t what she wanted. “I didn’t. I…”

“What?” He’s shaking his head, and this is not the admission she was looking for. Her actions aren’t in question here; his are.

Finally she manages enough saliva to lick her lips, her fingers beginning to tingle. “Do you want me?” she asks, voice hushed but unwavering. “Because you kissed me. And it didn’t feel fake.”

He glances toward the kitchen, as if the moment is being recreated there for him to evaluate. He lingers so long she can’t take the silence. “Danny?”

Turning, a feral expression having darkened his eyes, he crosses the two long strides it takes to stand before her. Danny’s fingers wind tightly in her hair.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, and it feels like that single word has replaced all the air in her lungs.

It’s hard and desperate when he kisses her, a hand immediately grasping her ass, and it’s nothing at all like the first time. It’s hungry, and Mindy thinks he may be trying to consume her completely.

She is sluggish to respond. The impossible reality of his hand under the hem of her shirt burning fingerprints into her skin, mouth open wide and taking, is a paralytic. Her back glances off the edge of his bedroom doorframe before Mindy realizes they’re moving. It stops them, and he lets her go altogether. Danny’s ubiquitous touch vanishing from her skin leaving her cold; like stepping outside in the dead of winter.  

“Do you not . . “ The heat of his breath paints her face, panting as he tries to regain control, “ . . want . .”

“No, I do.” She curls her fingers at the base of his neck, the hair she finds there so very soft.

Danny’s regarding her, his eyes wanting, but still a little uncertain. Mindy forces as much confidence in her voice as possible, even though she isn’t convinced this may not ruin everything. Be that as it may, she’s never meant anything quite so much as when she tilts her face to make sure he’s looking her square in the eyes and says, “I want you.”

There’s a lazy smile blossoming in his eyes and winding down to his mouth, Danny’s palms coming to cup her face.

She expects him to kiss her again. Instead, he pushes back the loose waves of hair over her shoulders, thumbs gliding down her neck. Then he begins the work of unbuttoning her blouse. Danny’s fingers are steady and his gaze never once waivers from hers. It’s amazing how three simple words can so change his demeanor. Dipping down, he lays a kiss against her neck as he slowly pushes the fabric off her arms, the silk puddling on the floor.

Trailing down her arms, the fingers of Danny’s right hand stutter over the raised scar on her upper arm. As he inspects closer she can tell he wants to ask about it. And she’d be happy to tell him the story that accompanies the mark, only not now. Not when every calculated, explorative touch is unraveling her.

Clearly knowing now isn’t the best time, Danny doesn’t say a word. He simply kisses the spot, followed by the edge of her collarbone, and she is officially unmade. Mindy pulls on him, nails digging maybe too much into the shell of his ear, but she has to. His mouth tastes like the wine she’s been drinking, and his skin tastes like -  _him_. His cheek and his jaw and his neck, all of the skin her mouth can find, tastes exactly like he always smells. Like laundry detergent and hard work, and it’s more intoxicating than even the wine of his mouth.

A thought pops uninvited into her head: that she can’t actually believe she’s doing this with  _Danny_. It’s surprising enough it almost makes her want to giggle with the preposterousness of it. But the thought continues to sink in.  _She’s doing this with Danny._  And it is as terrifying as it is a turn on.

This very well could be one of the biggest mistakes Mindy’s ever made. Putting up the relationship with her best friend as collateral for what may only end up being one regretted night. But as Danny walks her back, then pushes her into the mattress, his body solid and fitting perfectly against her, Mindy decides it might totally be worth it.


	15. The Assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand: Part Two

**Friday, November 22nd, 2013 - Days Married: 326**  

There is never a moment where his mind is blurry, slow to remember or respond. As soon as he is drawn from sleep by the nighttime lights bouncing in through his uncovered windows, Danny is completely aware of the woman curled on the other side of his bed.

It’s just after 4:00am and the city is beginning to wake up. Every time a large truck passes, momentarily blocking the streetlight, it blots part his ceiling black before returning to a slanted yellow rectangle. Danny watches it for so long it begins to fade with the coming dawn.

Mindy’s snoring lightly. Nothing more than faint puffs as she exhales, and he likes the sound of it. It’s familiar.

She’s curled in the fetal position, back toward him, and he studies the curve of her. It takes a long time for him to gain the courage to trace his hand across her back. With a snuffle she rolls over, tucking her head under his chin and hands clasped at her chest like she’s praying. Danny runs his hand under the covers and over the soft material of the shirt she put on after they - yeah. The memory of last night sends warmth zipping through him.

Even as close as they lie, she feels too far away from him. Danny shifts, pulling her so tightly against him he knows it will wake her up, her knuckles bearing hard into his sternum. He doesn’t care.

The embrace does wake Mindy up. He can feel it in the way her body tightens slightly and her breathing changes. She is awake, and pulled together like this he knows it’s impossible for her not to feel the way he’s pressing against her thigh.

Mindy’s eyelashes slowly brush his neck as she blinks. Then she closes her eyes and presses her mouth to his skin, teeth barely grazing his Adam’s apple. It sends goosebumps racing across his flesh.

In a fluid move he rolls over her and tugs down the navy shorts she’s wearing. The ones with the little white hearts on them that have been folded neatly in his underwear drawer for months. Mindy moans when he touches her, the sound spurring him on with urgency.

He has no idea what happens once their feet hit the floor. Mindy’s blunt classification of a ‘hook-up’ is smothering whatever naive hope is attempting to breed in his chest. This could be the last time, Danny thinks as he slides down her body. And if that’s the case, he’s going to make the absolute most of it. He knows how to do this, at least.

Danny knows how to love her.

* * *

With her eyes still tightly closed, Mindy extends her limbs snow-angel style and relishes the way she doesn’t bang up against a skillet or ill-placed kitchen knife. There may be something to this whole not-keeping-stuff-in-the-bed thing.

After several moments of blissful stretching Mindy fully realizes just _how_ empty the bed is. There’s a heart-stopping moment when she fears last night - and this morning - was all a very detailed dream. She quickly pops her eyelids open, hoping, and there’s a divot in the pillow where Danny’s head had been. The air rushes out of her lungs with relief.

It’s only a momentary comfort. Last night was real, and this morning he is gone.

It is his apartment, though. It isn’t like he’d just sneak out. She pulls her knees to her chest, resting her head, and looks at the clock: 7:14. Still a while before she has to be worried about getting ready for work.  

The bedroom is warm. Almost overly so, to the point that the blankets covering her from the waist down are nearly too much. Danny must have turned up the heat. It’s a conspicuous reversal of his “if you’re cold, do some cardio” policy.

In a Herculean effort Mindy resists the urge to primp before walking out of the bedroom. She does brush her teeth - it's still weird that her toothbrush is here - and swipe yesterday’s mascara from under her eyes.

Danny’s standing with his back to the room, spatula in hand, focused intently on the stovetop. She pulls a chair out from the table and sits, one bare foot placed flat on the seat, keeping her leg in front of her body as if it was somehow a defense. His shoulders are pulled up nearly to his ears, and it looks unnatural. Like he knows she’s watching and he has suddenly forgotten how to behave normally. Mindy has to clear her throat before she can speak. “Morning.”

“Hey.” His eyes flick toward the table, but never land on her. “Hope you’re hungry.”

Right now there’s an acrid taste on her tongue that she fears even the sweet smelling pancakes won’t wash away. She forces herself to smile, even though he isn’t looking, in the hope it will imbue her words. “When am I not?”

That finally earns her a glance, and the man looking back at her is a surprise. He doesn’t look like Danny. At least not the Danny she knows. The eyes looking back at her of those of a stranger, guarded.

He’s observing her in some detached, cautious way, as if he thinks she’s going to make this into the big deal it _actually_ is. Mindy won’t give him that satisfaction. She’d been hoping - but - no. No. This is all wrong.

“I think I’m going to take a quick shower.” That seems to grab his attention as she pushes away from the table, but that isn’t what she was intending. Mindy turns away quickly, striding back in the direction of the bedroom, needing to get away.

“Okay. But,” his voice trails off as she begins to close the doors behind herself. “It’s almost ready…”

“I’ll hurry.” She swallows down as much of the shakiness from her voice, even as the first tear rolls down her cheek. “Be back in just a few!”

Moving swiftly, Mindy jerks the shower on, then rummages for a towel. While the sound of water beating hard against the tile helps drown out most of the sound she’s making, it isn’t quite enough.  

It's not until she steps under the blinding hot stream, moisture beading up on her skin from the steam, that she’s able to let go; her ridiculous-feeling tears and the water becoming one and the same.

* * *

Mindy is perfectly composed. Her damp hair is in a low chignon, and the bright geometric print dress and tasteful navy blazer give her that boost she needs to feel completely in control. It doesn’t hurt that when she slides the doors open Danny is slouched in one of the chairs, still in his sleepwear.

The newspaper is open in front of him, coffee cup loose in his right hand, and there is a high stack of pancakes on a plate sitting in front of the empty chair she vacated a half an hour ago.

“You don’t have to eat them. They’re probably cold.” Danny never looks up.

She snatches one from the plate and folds it in half like a slice of pizza, her stomach revolting at the smell, but wanting to make a point all the same. “That’s okay.” Mindy wanders into the kitchen, taking a bite to punctuate her point. “You have any to-go mugs?”

“Huh?”

“You know, to-go mugs. Like, the tall ones with lids. For coffee.”

“Oh. Yeah, I, uh, I think there’s one on the top shelf in the cabinet with the glasses.”

“Great. You don’t mind if I take it, do you?”

“Course not.” She can hear his heel tapping the hardwood. “Are you leaving?”

Mindy has to stretch as far as her arm will go to reach the stainless steel travel mug. “Yeah. I thought I’d run by the hospital before work to see if anyone found my purse.”

The closest thing to coffee creamer he has is 2% milk and sugar cubes. Right now that will suffice. She’s got to get out of here.

“Mindy?”  

She’s almost made it to the front door when he calls her name. “Hm?”

Walking to where she anxiously stands, Danny plucks the lid off a small wooden bowl on the credenza and pulls from it a crumpled twenty dollar bill. “Here.”

“What is that for?” she spits, not even bothering to camouflage the anger from her voice.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “A cab. Or a Metrocard. Something. There’s no need for you to walk all the way to the hospital. At least not in those shoes.” Danny’s attempt at a smile comes off as more of a grimace.

“Oh.” She looks at the bill for a moment before accepting it. “Thanks.”

“Listen - I - I’m sorry. I apparently don’t know how to do this with you.”

Medically speaking she knows one’s heart cannot actually plummet, but that’s exactly what it feels like. “Do what?”

“Awkward morning afters.” Danny’s fingers are knotted in his hair, and at least he is decent enough to look as badly as she feels.

“You think too much. It was just sex, Danny.” Mindy takes a big, gulping breath of air. “Nothing changes. Still best friends.”

“Okay. Good.” He unlatches the bolt and turns the knob, and for some reason Mindy can’t help from running her mouth as she steps over the threshold.

“This is just one of those things we’ll laugh about in twenty years. Ya know, like, ‘remember that time we had sex? Oh yeah, that was crazy. Ha ha.’”

“Right. . . Just one of those things.”

Neither of them are laughing as he shuts the door behind her.


	16. Needle In The Groove

** Saturday, December 14th,2013 - Days Married: 348 **

The combination of seeing her smiling, mostly at everyone but him, and the literal soundtrack of his childhood playing is making Danny queasy. He blames it on the Italian sausage and green olives that he put on the pizza, even crunching a few antacids before giving up lying to himself about what’s causing his heart to burn. That’s when he switches from wine to scotch.  

It’s Mindy who puts an end to the limbo contest and pulls the gently patched-up record off the turntable. In it’s place she seats a Lionel Richie album and insists she and Peter show everyone their wedding reception moves.

When the fuck did she and Peter become best friends?

The other man dips her and Danny tips up the bottle of scotch again. The second glass goes down so smoothly, without even a scant burn. It makes him put the topper back in the decanter and return the whole thing to the bar. Enough of that or else he’ll be sloppy drunk at his own damn party. Well, technically Richie’s party.

Forcing his eyes to focus, Danny spots his brother on the other side of his living room, across the makeshift dance floor. Even borderline drunk he can clearly see the distress on the poor guy’s face as Beverly tries to grind against him to the rhythm of All Night Long.

Taking a deep breath and doing his best to ignore the way Peter’s hand is slung low on Mindy’s hip, Danny does the noble thing. Tapping Richie’s shoulder, he asks to cut-in.

** Sunday, December 15th, 2013 (Barely) - Days Married: 349 **

There is a box of industrial strength plastic trash bags Danny keeps under the sink precisely for occasions like this. Which is another reason why he generally doesn’t love throwing parties. There are more than a dozen beer bottles and half empty wine glasses left on every surface of his apartment, and that doesn’t begin to account for all the food debris littered everywhere.

He shakes out the bag, it making a terrific whooshing-boom noise he hopes signals to the few stragglers it’s time to go home. Jeremy has practically pinned-in the one available girl in attendance who he didn’t already know. He’s leaned in, hand planted on the brick wall by Richie’s old school friend, and he whispers something in the girl’s ear that makes her blush and bring her hand to her mouth. It makes Danny want to tell them to get out and find a room elsewhere.

Danny actually might if it wasn’t for the fact that all of his energy right now is focused on trying not to eavesdrop on the very long conversation his brother and Mindy are having. His willpower is somewhat lacking and he rounds the sofa, getting as close as he can while pitching bottles and paper plates into the bag. Before he can hear anything Richie’s cell phone rings. The younger man’s face is drawn, but noticeably sparked with excitement as he excuses himself out the front door into the hallway.

It leaves Mindy alone, mindlessly swaying to the music, empty wine glass in hand and close enough he could easily reach out and touch her. Danny doesn’t, of course.

“Your little brother is _so cool_ , Danny.” The sound of her voice is like honey, and he wonders when it changed from sounding like a cartoon mouse. “He’s nothing like you.”

His jaw is so tight the word has to maneuver around his teeth to escape. “Thanks.”

She laughs, light and tinkling, and it’s possible she’s a little bit drunk. “No, no. I didn’t mean that - you know - to sound like -” Mindy shakes her head a little, hair shimmying around her face, and surprisingly begins helping him clean up. “We just had _the best_ conversation about, like, every reality show on television. Do you know he’s MET Larsa Pippen?! He knows more about pop culture than _me!_ Would it be weird if I asked him to dinner? . . . It would be weird. But I think I could learn a lot...”

“I don’t know. Do whatever you want.”

Mindy is quiet, the only sound being the beer bottles clattering as they’re thrown into the bag. Scanning the room for more carnage, Danny notices that Jeremy and the young woman have disappeared. They better have slipped out the front door, because if they’re in his bedroom so help them God.

Danny tries focusing on that, and not about the fact that this is the first time he and Mindy have been alone together in weeks. It was in this very room actually, though under considerably different circumstances.

“I do see a lot of ways you two are similar,” she finally says, still talking about Richie as she pulls a couple wadded up napkins from the halfway open end table drawer.

“Really? Like how?” She doesn’t respond, and when Danny turns back around, he sees why.

Mindy is sitting on the edge of the sofa, the legal documents he’d stashed in that drawer the night she invited Amy over are now unfurled in her hands. Their annulment paperwork. Slowly she flips through it, scanning every page until reaching the end. She lowers the papers to her lap as she lifts her eyes to him.

“You’ve already signed them.” The words are neutral, but there’s something hiding in her tone.

Danny swallows thickly, uncertain as to why that fact makes him feel guilty. “Yeah. Right before you were supposed to go to Haiti. I was going to have you sign them the night of your going away party, remember? And then you - - you know.”

“And then I flaked. I remember.”

That isn’t how he sees it, but Danny gives a short nod of his head anyway.

“Well,” Mindy sucks in a deep breath, “better late than never. Do you have a pen?”

Danny reaches into the same drawer and hands one to her. It’s the same pen he uses to do the Times crossword puzzle on Sunday afternoons. Before he’s had time to process anything more than that, Mindy has initialed and scrawled her name in all the required places.

With the stroke of a cheap ballpoint pen emblazoned with a pharmaceutical logo, their marriage is over.

It did have to end eventually. Didn’t it?

“I think this calls for a drink,” he says, for no other reason than he suddenly wishes he was fucking hammered.

Mindy’s surprise-filled eyes flash to his, but he can’t keep her gaze. Danny strides to the kitchen, grabbing his tumbler and an already open bottle of red wine. He pours her glass nearly full before returning to the scotch from much earlier in the evening. If he’s being easy on himself he’ll say it’s only three fingers he pours.

“So which part are we celebrating?”

Danny clinks the cut crystal a little too hard against her wine glass in a cheers before answering her question with ones of his own. “Which part do you want to celebrate? The fact we’re finally annulled? Or that our marriage lasted longer than some of those Hollywood-type-people you read about in those trashy magazines?”

“I was thinking more like, celebrating that I now won’t die an old maid. But the longevity angle isn’t bad either.”

They both throw back their drinks, and whether it’s the booze or the fact that they’re actually having a conversation, Danny feels some better. “Just think, we lasted longer than Kris Humphries and that Kim girl.”

Mindy sputters into her wine. “Holy shit, Danny! Did you just make a Kim Kardashian reference?!”

“I guess. That the girl you always talk about who was married to the Nets’ power forward?”

“YES! I’m going to pretend that you already knew that because you actually listen to me when I talk about important celebrities, and that it has nothing to do with basketball.”

“If that makes you happy, sweetheart.” Danny can’t help smiling at her. Perhaps surprisingly, Mindy is smiling just as broadly back at him. Jesus, he’d missed this. Missed _her_.

He drains his glass and reaches for her fingertips without overthinking it. “Come here.”

Mindy comes easily, placing her wine on a coaster on the coffee table and slipping an arm over his shoulder as if she knew exactly what he had in mind.

“You know,” she starts, and the words tickle his neck, “Peter’s pretty good, but you’re definitely the best dancer I know.”

“Yeah?” He can’t help but laugh. “Slow dancing to an old Carole King album is that impressive, huh? I’ll have to remember that.”

“Yes, actually. I mean, you’ve got killer moves in the club - never would have believed that had I not seen it with my own two eyes - but a slow dance? It’s different.” Even with the friendly distance between them, Danny can feel his skin begin to flush at the light contact. “You know how to lead. That’s what it is. I don’t have to think about what step I’m going to take next, it’s just there.”

Her cheek brushes his and instinctively his right arm tightens around her waist. “It helps having a good partner.”

She hums agreement into his ear and Danny allows his eyes to drift closed. They simply sway for a long time, not even really shuffling their feet, until they’re barely moving at all.

If it were possible, Danny would stay in this moment forever. The way her body fits perfectly against his, the now faint smell of her perfume, how warm she is and how fucking much he never wants to let her go feels like enough to live off of for a lifetime.

Finally the smooth line of her neck, so close and tantalizing, becomes too much to ignore. Mindy flinches imperceptibly, but doesn’t pull away when he brushes his lips against her skin. Danny nuzzles his nose behind her ear, kissing her so softly. Too much pressure and he’s afraid she might run away.

As he travels up her neck to the hinge of her jaw he can taste buttercream icing and he wants her more than anything he’s ever wanted in his life. He is still holding their hands tightly against his chest, over his heart, and he can feel it thumping against the back of his palm.

“Min-” He doesn’t know what he wants to say, purely the need to admit everything he’s feeling bubbling over where he is unable to suppress it. Rejection be damned. Though maybe he should take the coward’s way out and just kiss her instead.  

The sound of the front door latching snaps them both out of the moment before he can do either of those things. Richie doesn’t seem to notice them as he walks to the kitchen. It doesn’t matter, though. Whatever tenuous connection has been broken and Danny can actually feel Mindy preparing to bolt.

Turning out of his arms, Mindy has grabbed her coat and purse before he can think of a way to stop her from going.

“It was a great party. Very nice meeting you, Richie.”

Danny’s brother smiles at both of them, charming and sincere. “It was nice meeting you too, Doctor Lahiri.”

The door shudders as it closes behind her.

“What an interesting night this has turned out to be.” Richie is smirking at him. Danny turns to pour himself another drink, his hands shaking and unsure he wants his brother to see what must be on his face.

“First Ramon calls, pledging his undying love and wanting me back-”

“Are you two gonna get back together?”

“-and then I walk in on _that_.”

“You didn’t walk in on anything. We were just dancing. Now, you and Ramon.” He desperately wants to change where this seems to be headed. “What’s up with you two?”

“No, no. I don’t think so. You first. You were just giving Doctor Lahiri serious love-eyes, and she bolted out of here like a spooked horse as soon as I came back in. So what? Are you guys dating? Hooking up? Want to be hooking up and haven’t? Oh, damn.” Richie walks toward him with a distraught look on his face. “Did I just interrupt you guys about to have sex?”

“For God’s sake, Rich, get your mind out of the gutter!”

“So you’re telling me there’s nothing going on?”

“That’s what I’m telling you. Mindy and I are just friends.”

“Right. Just friends and nothing more?”

“We’re --” Danny paces toward the piano. Somehow actually trying to define what the hell they are to another person makes everything they _aren’t_ so much more painful. “It’s complicated, okay?”

Richie laughs, a genuinely happy thing, until his older brother shoots him a sharp look. “Danny,” he sighs. “I don’t think it’s as complicated as you think it is.”

“What does that mean? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not. Which makes me think we should spend a little less time talking about my relationships and a little more talking about yours. How long has this been going on?”

_This_? Danny has no idea how to answer that question. Is it the day nearly a year ago when he drunkenly married a woman he could barely tolerate? When they became friends? That terrifying moment when he realized he was falling for her? Maybe _THIS_ started the moment he met Mindy Lahiri.

“Um.” He pinches his eyes closed and attempts to give the most honest answer he can. “I guess it was about a year ago. Especially the last few months, though.”

“Okay. So what’s the problem? She married or something?”

Now it’s Danny’s turn to laugh, a nearly hysterical sound. “Yeah, actually. She’s married.”

“Ah, man.” Richie steps close enough to clasp a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “That really sucks. Are you sure she’s happy with this other guy? Because she is clearly _suuuuuper_ into you.”

“What makes you say that?” he says, trying not to let some stupid, unfounded hope begin to breed in his heart.

“Just a few things I noticed. Like if I hadn’t come in when I did you two would have definitely been making out. How she had tears in her eyes when she bolted out of here, which doesn’t really look nonchalant if you know what I mean.”

“She was crying?”

“And, maybe more telling than that, she spent almost the entire time we were talking asking me about you.”

“She - - So you think-”

“If that woman isn’t in love with you I’ll eat my shoe.”

Danny halfway staggers into a sitting position on the piano bench, his elbow hitting the keys striking a few sour notes.

She couldn’t really be, could she? All of the signs have pointed to the exact opposite. The way she approached them having sex so casually. All of the distance between them.

If he had acted that way--

It’s with a sick stomach Danny realizes that is exactly the same way he has been behaving with her. Because he thought it was what _she_ wanted, not because -- Shit. What if that’s all she’s been doing too? Self preservation.  

He can feel Richie staring at him, waiting. But when Danny looks up there is only one thing he can see.

Neatly folded on his coffee table are the signed annulment papers.


	17. What Are you Doing New Year's?

** Sunday, December 29th, 2013 - Days Married: 0 **

They lost her luggage.

How is it even possible to lose all the luggage from a half-full, hour and fifteen minute long flight directly from Logan International to LaGuardia?  

Mindy spends two hours in the tiny airless office of some poor soul whose job it is to mitigate the airline’s incompetence without getting their eyes clawed out. Finally it is sorted out that her bags ended up on a commuter flight to Albany and will be delivered to her apartment sometime tomorrow.

By the time she makes it out into the taxi queue the sun has just brushed past the horizon and a cold rain is beginning to rush in. It blows around her ankles in spite of being under a covering, leaving Mindy shivering and damp. The cab she eventually slides into smells a little, but is extremely warm. She is briefly grateful before it starts to feel suffocating.

Finally, after the stop and go of bridge and tunnel traffic, the lights of Manhattan blur past her. She’d missed New York these last few days. The comfort of her old bedroom and her parents’ endless affection was exactly what she had needed the last couple weeks. Until it wasn’t.

Now it is time to come home, get to work, and get over it. Get over him.

Which includes getting out of whatever casual sex arrangement they have. Things had gone back to being cordial, if distant, after their one night together. Professional. Mindy honestly believed that was it; she put herself out there and Danny wasn’t interested. Then he tried to kiss her at the party the night of Josh’s wedding and she knew there was no way to make it work. It’s too hard to have him just pick her up and put her down on a whim.

In her calculations there are only three potential ways to get out of their situation: 1) Tell Danny he’s lousy in bed and she isn’t interested in continuing. Which would needlessly hurt his feelings, especially since the whole hooking-up thing was technically her idea, and is also a gigantic lie. 2) Admit that she has feelings for him and in deference to their business relationship and friendship, it’s in their best interests to stop before she gets hurt any more than she already has been. Which she would rather quit the practice and move thousands of miles away than admit. 3) Fabricate and/or find a boyfriend. Which is clearly the only option. As soon as they reopen after the holiday that is precisely what she will do.

Starting at the top and working her way down, Mindy will scour every inch of their office building and beyond to find someone passable. By the second week of January her Danny dilemma will be a dilemma no longer. Mindy is feeling completely confident in her ability to stick to her plan and move on once and for all.

Until she finds two envelopes, one large and the other small, on her doorstep.  

Her hands are trembling - she lies to herself and says it’s from the cold - as she picks up the parcels. Scrawled across the smaller of the two envelopes is her name, the handwriting beautifully and painfully familiar.

* * *

_Dear Mindy,_   
  


_I hope you had a good trip. I’m sorry that you were gone over_

_Christmas. We attempted throwing a small party at the office,_

_but it wasn’t the same without you. Also, I got your name in_

_Secret Santa. I still have your present. I want to give it to you_

_if you think you’d like it._   
  


_Leaving the annulment papers at your door like this is probably_

_unfair, and you deserve a good explanation. Especially since_

_I assured you I would handle it. The short answer is I can’t file_

_them. You are more than welcome to file them if you’d like; all_

_you have to do is drop them off._   
  


_The long answer is something I’d like to speak with you about_

_in person. I know you are supposed to be at work on Thursday._

_But, if you feel like it and have the time, I’d like to see you before_

_then. Just let me know.  
_  

_Love,_

_Danny_

* * *

Mindy leaves the plain, lined paper on her kitchen counter while she busies herself littering damp clothes around her apartment as she sheds them, and pours herself a glass of wine.

It’s still lying there, the slanted block lettering mocking her, when she takes her first sip. Even glancing at it upside down, her stomach somersaults over the signature. _Love, Danny._

She could call him.

Instead she stands in her dimly lit kitchen and stares at the page until the ink blurs dark and unintelligible across the paper, then abandons her wine for a shower.

Thirty minutes under a hot stream does nothing to clear her mind. Wrapping a towel around her body, Mindy pads out of her bathroom into her dark apartment. She should flip on the lights, let it infuse the space and hopefully help banish the fear that is consuming her.

It’s not just fear, though. As she lays down on top of her bedspread she is honest enough to admit that the fear is there only as the accompaniment of hope. And it’s the hope that’s terrifying.

Why couldn’t he file the annulment papers? Is it a Catholic thing? Seems like if it were that would have come up long ago. Rolling over, she buries her face in the pillow, muting a groan. There’s really only one way to find out.

She shoots off the bed and, striding into the kitchen, snatches her cell phone off the island and begins typing.

**_Home and got your_ **

**_letter. Come over if_ **

**_you want._ **

It’s curt, but she can’t muster anything more than those two sentences. She taps her phone on the butcherblock and doesn’t have to wait more than 45 seconds for a reply.

**_I’m on my way._ **

Mindy heaves a breath of relief that is immediately replaced by panic. _Shit._

Switching on the lights, she bolts into the bathroom first. Okay, her hair is damp but not a complete disaster. She twists it back and secures the strands with a handful of long pins. All of the makeup is scrubbed clean from her face so she hits only the essentials: concealer, powder, mascara, lip gloss.

Next is clothes. Answering the door in nothing but a towel would probably send the wrong impression. Mindy pulls a dress from its hanger and then stares at it in her hands. It would be painfully obvious that she changed for him if she’s in casual evening wear. Not bothering to hang it back up, Mindy tosses it onto the chair and moves on. Finally she decides on a long sweater that hits her just right in all the best places, and a pair of leggings.

As she’s pulling the sweater over her head there's a knock at the door. Good God, he must have been around the corner when she texted him.

Mindy takes a few shaky deep breaths and steals herself before placing her hand on the knob. No matter what happens or what he has to say, she’ll be okay. She has a plan. She is going to be okay.

“Hi,” she says, proud her voice is clear and chipper. Danny’s standing on the other side of the door, looking as wide-eyed and unsteady as she feels.

“Hey.” There’s a small brown-paper Barnes and Noble bag dangling from his fingers. Danny clears his throat, but his voice is still raspy when he speaks again. “Um. Can I come in?”

“Of course!” She opens the door wide enough for him to enter and curses herself for just standing there staring at him. She follows him into the kitchen and for the first time, now that the lights are on, notices how her apartment is a complete wreck.

After placing the bag on the countertop, he hangs his head and shoves his hands deep in his pockets. “Thank you for seeing me tonight.”

“Sure.” Mindy nods, anticipating him to continue. When he doesn’t, the need to fill the silence automatically kicks in. “I mean, you did say you had a present for me. This it?” She fiddles with the twisted raffia handle of the bag, waiting for him to give her the go ahead.

“Uh. . yeah. Well - - I guess maybe part of it. Go ahead.”

It isn’t wrapped, obviously; the bag from the store good enough in Danny’s mind to serve as Christmas paper. Pulling the thin plastic rectangle free of the bag, she sees Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert scowling at each other on the front cover of the DVD case.

“You remembered.” It surprises her that he would, that conversation a hazy memory in her own mind.

“We made a deal. I said I’d provide It Happened One Night if you made the popcorn. It’s about time you see the rest of this movie.”

The memory of the weekend in Santa Fe, of that night trying to stay awake and talk to him, warms her. “We did say that. And I’ll hold up my end.”

Danny’s watching her, a smile ghosting his too serious face. This doesn’t feel like things going back to normal. And it certainly doesn’t feel like moving forward.

“You said, uh - in your letter - you said you wanted to talk to me.” Mindy wipes her hands across the tops of her leggings. “What is it that you had to tell me in person?”

He takes a deep breath then says in a rush, “I can’t submit the papers. You can if you want, but-”

“Okay, you already said that part. Why not?” she asks, impatient for him to get to the part she doesn’t already know.

“Because I don’t want to.”

His inflection makes it sound like those words are nothing more than general apathy. “ _Because…?_ ”  

“Shit.” He ruffles a hand in his hair before throwing his hands up. “I’ve been rehearsing this for over a week and I’m getting it all wrong.”

Danny usually speaks his mind without a thought as to how it may sound, sure of his words and opinions. Or he says nothing at all. Mindy’s heart is beating too hard in her chest at the idea of what he may have been rehearsing.

“Mindy, you can handle this however you want to, all the work is done. But I wanted you to know - you have the _right_ to know - this isn’t what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“To not get the annulment right now. . . or. . . for as long as we both shall live.”

_For as long as they both shall live._

Her hands are shaking. “You said you’ve been rehearsing this so I have to assume you know what it sounds like you’re saying. _Do you_ know what it sounds like you’re saying?”

“Yes. I know this is probably not how you ever pictured it. A proposal. And I’m going to do everything I can to make up for that. If you’ll let me.” There is genuine fear filling his eyes and he’s holding his breath.

He reaches out to take her hand and Mindy’s beginning to think maybe she misjudged some things. The slow sweep of his fingertips on her palm almost stills the tremble.

“Danny…” His face falls when she pulls away from his grasp. It isn’t intended to hurt him, though clearly that is the result. She wants to believe; to jump in with both feet without even looking. But at some point in the last year she’s become cautious. It may have something to do with her heart having never been out on the line like this.

“I’m not saying no,” she says gently. “But you have to explain this better than, ‘Hey, let’s just stay hitched.’ What changed?”

“Nothing changed. I’m just a complete idiot who can’t see past himself. And apparently you’re an idiot, too. At least I hope you are.” He smiles halfheartedly.

“Wow. You’re really slaying this whole proposal thing. So we’re both idiots. That is a solid reason to stay married.”

“I’m in love with you.”

The words knock her in the gut, taking the wind out of her and making her feel a little like she might throw up. In a great way - if that’s possible.

“And I’m hoping - no, I’m _counting on_ you being just as bad at this as I am and actually loving me back.”

“I do--” Mindy has to gulp air into her lungs again, “I love you, too.”

Suddenly his hands are framing her face. Yet he stops right before he kisses her, his neck tilting backward to regain the full view of her face. “Why aren’t you smiling?”

“Because. What if that doesn’t matter?”

“What are you talking about? Of course it matters. We love each other. We want to be together. That matters.”

“Maybe it doesn’t! I knew I loved you before I was ever going to leave for Haiti. I’ve known I wanted to be with you for months, way before we ever slept together. And we still hurt each other. Just - just because we’re already technically married doesn’t mean it’s a solid enough reason to stay that way.” She doesn’t know why she’s letting all of the worst case scenarios tumble from her mouth, but she ruefully means every word.

“You’re right,” Danny concedes solemnly. “The fact that we are already married is no reason to _stay_ married.”  

He doesn’t move his hands where they’re still cupping her cheeks. “Except, I don’t want to not be married to you, Mindy. You’re it.” Deftly, before she can anticipate it, his lips are covering hers. It is a soft, ephemeral kiss, which leaves her only wanting more.

“Do you want to be married to me?”

If she were to have predicted one thousand different ways she would end up married to the man she loves, Mindy would have never guessed this. Now, with the warmth of Danny’s body against hers, the way his breath is steady and brushing her face, she cannot imagine anything else. “Yes, I do.”

This time when he kisses her she’s ready, her mouth as eager and searching as his. It isn’t a minute before his hands start a descent down her back while pulling her to align against him. Mindy’s brain is clicking off, the lights being shut off room by room. Right before all cognisant thought is gone, Danny’s teeth against her lip and hand up her shirt, she remembers a few very important unanswered questions, and she needs to know.

He keeps his hands on her waist as she reluctantly pulls away. “How long have you felt this way?”

“I’ve always had feelings for you, since the moment we met,” he says, thumbs brushing the bare skin of her waist. It is almost enough to distract her from incredulity.

“ _Really?!_ ” That cannot possibly be true, can it?

“Yes. Almost all of them negative.”

A laugh shoots out of her mouth like a gunshot. She covers her smile with her hand and barely suppresses a snort. Thank God it wasn’t all one-sided. Their mutual dislike of each other is the very real beginning of their relationship.

“Then… I don’t know. You were my friend, and then something more than that, and now --”

Her fingers slide from her lips, wound up in those simple words and mesmerized by the unshielded honesty smoothing the lines of Danny’s face. “Now?...”

“You are everything, Mindy.”

She clutches out at him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and burying herself in his embrace. A newly intimate thing. A harbor. She’s found a perfect home within his arms.

“I can't bear any day that doesn’t have you in it,” Danny whispers against her hair.

“I’ve missed you.” She doesn’t feel the fullness of that honesty until saying the words aloud. Jesus, how she has missed him.

“I was terrified you wouldn’t come back from Massachusetts.”

Mindy squeezes tighter. She could never stay away, even if they were irrevocably broken. “I won’t ever file the paperwork.”

She can feel his head pulling back, wanting to get a clear look at her face, and she turns it up to him so he can see everything. How much she means it.

“I’ll not annul you.”

Danny smiles, something shimmering in his eyes that looks like a mixture of affection and amusement. “We’ve got to come up with a better name for this.”

“I won’t un-marry you?”

“Uhhh-”

“I’ll be your wife.”

His nostrils flare and when Danny speaks his voice reverberates deep and thick. “You _are_ my wife.” Then his hand is at the back of her neck, pulling her to him.

She is. How has that tense escaped her? This isn’t the beginning, just a defining moment along their way.

They work quickly against each other. He’s got her sweater off, his jacket and button-down already lying on the floor, and is tugging his T-shirt being over his head as she’s unbuckling his belt.

“Wait,” he says, her mouth staying against his collarbone.

“What?” She can hear the irritation in her own voice, even over the panting.

“Your Secret Santa present--”

“It was very thoughtful, Danny, but I really don’t want to watch a movie right now and it’s more than a little disappointing if you do.”

“No, it’s not--” Her thumb popping open the button of his jeans makes him stutter. “--not - That’s not your present.”

Shoving a hand into the loose-hanging pocket of his blue jeans, Danny produces her gift. Held tightly in his fingers is a thin platinum band, diamonds inlaid around its circumference.

“ _THIS_ is my Secret Santa present?!”

“Well, I bought it the day after Richie’s party and was trying to come up with the right time to offer it to you. When I pulled your name for Christmas it just kinda seemed like a sign.”

“And then I left before Christmas without telling anybody.”

“Which kinda seemed like a bad sign, yeah.”

“It wasn’t! Or, at least I didn’t mean for it to be. Had I known--”

“No, I know that. We’re here now. Is it - do you want to put it on?” He sounds nervous, and she cannot have him slide it on her finger fast enough. It fits perfectly, the diamonds shining and ticking the best boxes of every one of the four C’s. “It’s a wedding band. I figured you might want to pick your own engagement ring. Even if there wasn’t really an engagement…”

“Aww, that’s very thoughtful, Danny.” She examines her partially-clad finger and imagines the possibilities.

“And I can already tell what you’re thinking, and I’m going with you to pick it out. We should do it together.” He kisses her temple sweetly. “Plus, I want to be there to remind you I don’t have Richard Burton money.”

Mindy chuckles, though the image of an Elizabeth Taylor caliber ring is terribly appealing. “Deal.”

“I got one, too.” Danny pulls a slightly larger, un-encrusted platinum band from his other pocket. “Here. You wanna?”

Taking it from him, she studies the warm metal. The ring she’s about to slide on his finger. The ring he intends on wearing for the rest of his life. Offering his left hand, Mindy moves to slide it on his finger, slowly, as if this were a do-over for the moment that was so insincere in their actual ceremony.

It looks good on him. Complete. And a wave of pride fills her knowing she put it there. That he is hers.

“Come on, husband.” Mindy leans up and kisses him, fast and dirty, before grabbing his hand and pulling. “We’ve got about a year’s worth of sex to make up.”

** Monday, December 30th, 2013 - Days Married: 364 **

They're going to have to watch it again. Danny was doing that thing with his hand. And then there was the thing he was doing with his mouth. If this keeps up it is entirely possible she will never see the end of It Happened One Night.

Mindy isn’t complaining.

“So whatcha think?” His breath is warm whispering in her ear.

“I think you are considerably more talented than I fully realized and I am ecstatic at this revelation.”

“About the movie.”

“You know very well I was not watching.”

“Good. You better not have been able to pay attention.” She can almost feel the smile that is spreading across his face, even with the way her back is pressed against his chest where they’re sprawled on the sofa. “We’ll have to try again sometime.”

“Sometime…” She turns to kiss the grin on his face. “Tomorrow… Ya know, whatever.”

“Mm, that reminds me, babe.”

“Huh?”

Danny’s running two fingers up and down the length of her arm. “What are you doing New Year’s Eve?” 


	18. Epilogue

** Tuesday, December 31st, 2013 - Days Married: 365 **

“Babe. I’m not trying to rush you, but we have to leave. Right now.”

Mindy pokes around the bathroom door looking exactly like she did twenty minutes before. The embodiment of all the adjectives: Beautiful. Sexy. Ready. _Late_. “Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No. But if you were even remotely good at guessing, you would already know.”

Walking to the bureau, she takes off the perfectly fine earrings she had been wearing and begins a mysterious hunt for better ones. “You promise it’s not the Empire State Building?”

“For the fourteenth time, it is not the Empire State Building. It’s been done.” Though at some point he knows it will inevitably be added to his romantic repertoire. The woman is obsessed with the building. And Danny is obsessed with the woman.

Alright. He’s tried encouragement, then assertiveness. The only thing left that he can think of to try is wooing. He goes to stand behind her, watching the lines of concentration on her face in the mirror as she scrutinizes a pair of bright, dangling earrings.

“Those look nice,” he says, smoothly sliding his arms around her waist.

“You think? Not too understated with this dress?”

“Nah.” He brushes her hair over one shoulder and ghosts his lips along the shell of her ear. “You look gorgeous in everything. And in nothing.”

Danny can feel the shiver run through her as he nuzzles that sensitive spot behind her ear. She leans back against him, and he uses his teeth, ever so lightly, to graze her jaw. The curve of her body is firmly pressed against him as his hands begin to roam, his mouth and fingers finding the top of the zipper to her dress.

“You really think so?”

“Yeah.” The zipper is far enough down now to slide his hand inside. Mindy’s skin is silky and hot to the touch. “You’re perfect no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Thank you.” She turns in his arms, her lips grazing the corner of his mouth. He wants to chase those lips. To kiss her properly. “I don’t know what I was so worried about. I’ll go with the earrings you liked.”

“Good.” Danny’s about to push the sides of the dress over her shoulders and show her exactly how perfect he thinks she is. Then she’s gone. Flitted away across the room, tugging up the zipper even as she slides into her heels.

She nods her head in the direction of the front door. “Well, come on.”

“But--” he turns back toward the bureau as if maybe she missed part of what was happening. “Don’t you wanna -- are we not--”

Mindy sashays over to him, a Cheshire grin beginning to curl at her mouth. “I do wanna. And we are going to. But right now we’re going to be late, so it’s going to have to wait until whatever this is you have planned is over,” she says as she smoothes down the placket of his shirt.

“What if what I have planned was for us to get dressed up and then seduce you and spend the rest of the afternoon in bed?”

“Then my plan is to go out and celebrate New Year’s Eve while you stay here and think about what a bad idea that was.”

“Fair.” Danny’s about to take a step around her, toward the door, when her hand continues smoothing down past his shirtfront.

“But when we get back, it’s on.”

* * *

Clearly she knows the instant he gives the address to the cab driver. But Mindy waits until they're standing on the sidewalk out front, her cold fingers laced securely between his, before she says anything.

"You're right, I should have guessed."

The deceptively plain-looking building on the outskirts of Chinatown conceals the gilded opulence waiting just beyond the doors of the Golden Unicorn. "It seemed right. Do you like it?"

She turns her incredulous eyes on him. "Are you kidding? It's perfect." She presses slightly on her toes to lean up and kiss him.

Hearing her say that makes him feel better. Although there are a lot of bigger things to worry about beyond the restaurant. Those fears will take just a little longer to quell.

He's clinging maybe a little too tightly to her hand when the hostess directs them to the table he reserved. The large, round table in an alcove is particularly obscured by heavy, red velvet drapes, and he stops Mindy before she can go any further.

"I did something,” he says, mouth dry. "It may have been - well, it’s probably - foolish. Or at least a bad idea..."

They have to sidestep a little to move out of the way of a waiter, and when Mindy looks back at him her eyes are wide as saucers.

"What did you do? Because you don’t do spontaneous and it’s kinda freakin’ me out...”

"It's not that bad."

"Okay." She audibly sighs with relief. "Good."

"I invited everyone from work for an impromptu reception."

" _What?!_ " There's fire and curiosity lacing her theatrically hushed voice.

"Listen, they don't know anything yet. I just told 'em we were having a little spur of the moment New Year’s celebration. Which was immediately panned by everyone until I told them I'd pick up the check. We can leave it at that. Or we can tell them we're dating..."

"I feel like there's another ‘or’ coming."

" _Or_ , we can have the wedding reception we didn't have last year. I know it's small, and it won't be the last one, but I don't want you to miss out on any of it, Mindy. I know you. You've always wanted the big spectacle, and should get to have it."

She peers through the slim opening for a long moment. He wishes he knew what she was thinking. Because right now, hearing the familiar din of Peter and Beverly having an argument, and catching a fleeting glimpse of Morgan with chopsticks dangling from his top lip as walrus tusks, is making Danny wonder why in the hell he ever thought this was a good idea.

"Let's tell them."

" _Seriously?_ "

"Yeah. I mean - why not? I hadn't really thought much about it, but what are we going to do at work? Take our rings off? I don't want to lie about this, Danny. Not for a second. Not now that it's real. Plus, I'm pretty sure it would be difficult to hide for very long. I intend on lots of highly personal consultations, and the walls are thin."

Office sex. He hadn't thought about that. There are definitely perks to working with your wife. "Okay, we tell them. But it doesn’t have to be today. If you'd rather go somewhere just the two of us, I'll leave my credit card info with the waiter and we'll split."

"No." She turns her beautiful smile to him. "It's our wedding reception. We can't miss that."

He grabs her hand again, fortifying himself. As soon they walk into that room together their life becomes real to the rest of the world. Giving her hand a squeeze, Danny takes a step.

 

_**The End** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest thanks to everyone who read, commented, and stuck with this story over the last year and a half. So many people have been lovely and supportive, but I have to give a special thank you to the following: 
> 
> Calliope_Soars, PhunkyBrewster, alittlenutjob, Smapdi, tainted_silver, FakePlastikTrees, GloriaGilbertPatch, empressT, FortLauderTales, evmlove, scarlettblythe, Mwah25, Mad Charitable, YouLoveIt_ILoveYou, SigneHansen, cells55, akrons, city_bright, maerob, and nyny17
> 
> You made writing this story all the more enjoyable.


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